30 Days and 30 Nights
by optimus prime 007
Summary: The P&J Community Anniversary challenge. Sexy Septembers 30 days and 30 prompts.  Each day is a different one shot revolving around Prowl and Jazz.  There will be drama, romance, comedy, action, and of course hot interfacing.  You've been warned. Enjoy :
1. Day One

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Special thanks to prancingtiger86 for the quick read through to calm my muse's worries! Thanks hon!

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**Day 1**: "I met you, the stars sparkled, and I was born."

The night was late. Far beyond late night that it almost could be considered early morning for some. The streets were nearly deserted as most normal mechanisms were in deep recharge. The air was crisp, cool, and refreshing for the mech who'd emerged from the dance club moments ago. The music was muffled but that didn't stop the mech from offlining his visor hidden optics and bobbing his head rhythmically as the base beat thumped.

When the beat changed as a new song began, Jazz on-lined his optics and sighed dreamily, taking in his surroundings. It was the same street as it was before he'd entered the club several joors ago. Yet it seemed…_**different**_.

The crystal statues that populated the street appeared more vibrant. The lights that lit up the city of Praxus seemed just a little bit brighter. Even upon lifting his gaze to the heavens, the stars sparkled more livelier than ever almost appearing as if to dance in jubilation.

Jazz's spark soared.

It was as if he was seeing everything for the first time.

His smile widened.

He felt like a new mech, as if he'd been reborn into this brighter and better world.

Again Jazz sighed, smiling dreamily thinking about the events that had transpired over the course of the evening. He couldn't believe the good fortune that Primus bestowed up him and how his life would never be the same.

The music suddenly blared loudly as a door opened capturing his attention.

Jazz turned and his smile grew even brighter and he could swear his spark just twirled excitedly as his gaze was fixed upon the mech who'd emerged. The mech looked one way and then twitched his elegant doorwings to and fro as is searching for something. After a moment they suddenly stiffly stilled and then relaxed into their normal potions. The mech's gaze turned and his warm deep cobalt optics found Jazz.

Again, Jazz's spark fluttered, taking in this handsome, regal mech as he approached.

"I apologize for making you wait, Jazz. Some over-energized femme was insisting I dance with her and wouldn't let me go," the black and white mech smiled sheepishly. "I had to literally pry her hands off me."

"S'ok Prowl. I hope ya let 'er down gently an' tol' 'er that ya already had a betta offa," Jazz teased, briefly trailing a finger down the mech's chest.

Prowl blushed brightly, ducking his head, fluttering his doorwings. The moons' light glinted of the bright red chevron. Once again, like so many times that evening Jazz was mesmerized and found he could not stop himself.

"Awww, yer so adorable when yar embarrassed," Jazz cooed, reaching to caress the mech's heated faceplates while stepping closer, so close he could feel the heat from Prowl's chest against his own, .

Prowl's faceplates turned an even darker shade of red before he gathered his courage to look Jazz in the optics.

"Well, I normally don't go making out with mech's I'd just met on the dance floor," Prowl replied, wrapping his arms around Jazz's waist, holding him close against his chassis.

"Would ya be up for some more makin' out at ma place? It's private an' I promise not to bite…_**much**_."

Prowl sighed, nuzzling his nose against Jazz's, gazing affectionately at the smaller black and white mech, "As appealing as that sounds I much regretfully decline. I have to be on duty in two joors and need to get _**some**_ recharge. I would however, enjoy seeing you again on the dance floor…tomorrow…same time?"

"I'll be th…mmph."

The kiss was brief yet intensely deep and full of passion. They literally gasped when their lip components parted from each other.

"On second thought, I know a little shop down the street where we can get some warm energon. They should be opening up in less than a joor," Prowl panted, optics drinking Jazz in, one finger slowly trailing down his a cheek.

"What'll we do 'til then?" Jazz asked, letting his hands rest on Prowl's wide chest.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Prowl smirked, lower his lips once again.

Jazz smiled into the sensual kiss. He couldn't help it. Not only was this mech highly intelligent and good looking, but he was one fragging awesome kisser! As the kiss deepened intensely, passionately, the stars sparkled brightly with mirth. And as they continued kissing, the two not caring about the spectators that passed them by, Jazz knew this feeling like he was reborn was truly a wonderful thing.

**The End.**


	2. Day Two

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

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**Day 2**: "Piss me off and we'll see just how submissive I am."

It wasn't a miscalculation or an oversight. The plan was flawless. Everything was going perfectly. It was only by sheer, dumb luck that a single Decepticon managed to capture them both during that one brief moment they'd been distracted.

"Ya can stop beatin' yarself up, Prowler. We'll get out o' this," Jazz spoke softly, sensing his mate's agitation through their bond. "I must say though, ya're lookin' rather sexy hangin' there wit' those stasis cuffs on. It's givin' me ideas for when we ge' back to base."

"Quiet please. I'm formulating a strategy for getting us out of here," Prowl countered, his optics focused on some inanimate object on the floor, remembering that he'd let his attention shift that one moment to Jazz's aft instead of where they were running which had caused them to be in their current situation. But then of course if Jazz hadn't moved his aft suggestively in the first place at Prowl he wouldn't have been distracted.

Jazz revved his engine softly in response while sending an intense wave of his exact feelings for his love over their bond. He was _**not **_to be denied.

"You can be such a distraction," Prowl chuckled, smiling fondly. "I promise we'll do whatever you want when we get back."

"I take it the chances o' our 'scape are lookin' good then?"

An annoying and all too familiar laugh erupted just as the cell door opened.

"Foolish Autobots, there is no escape while _**I'm **_in command," Starscream smirked.

"I calculate our chances just went up dramatically, Jazz," Prowl remarked with a crooked grin.

Ever since he bonded to Jazz the tactician could never let the opportunity to take shots at the Decepticon's SIC pass. Prowl not only discovered that Starscream's ego couldn't handle the jibes but that it also threw the seeker emotionally off balance, causing him to make poor decisions.

"Mus' be really good. Ya smiled, love!"

Starscream's optics narrowed but he didn't take the bait just yet. He wasn't entirely stupid.

"I've often wondered," Starscream mused, stepping closer and grabbing the tactician by his face. "Are you the submissive partner in the relationship? You must be. All Praxians are so _**weak**_. Will you submit to me? I think so!"

With a quick hand movement, Starscream yanked hard on Prowl's doorwing, causing the mech to groan through his denta. Prowl refused to scream no matter how painful it was as his wing was yanked and twisted. Prowl growled to hide his pain even as he managed to move his damaged wing out of Starscream's grasp.

"That's right. You don't like your wings handled so roughly. Does it anger you if I thouch them _**this**_ way?" Starscream teased, sliding his fingers gently over the undamaged wing. Prowl instantly flicked the wing away in disgust, glowering at the Decepticon. Starscream countered by grabbing the tactician by the face again. "Get as angry as you want, Prowl. You're weaker than I and you _**will**_ submit to me."

"Go ahead _**Screamer**_, piss me off and we'll see just how submissive I am," Prowl snarled, flaring his optics angrily, intensely holding the seeker's gaze.

"Such emotion, coming from you. I'm surprised," Starscream smiled, patting Prowl's cheek before moving over to Jazz. "You are a difficult mech to break. However, I know your weakness. Therefore, I know for a fact you will submit to me if I harm your precious Jazz."

That was Starscream's first mistake, shifting his torture from Prowl to Jazz. If the Decepticon had been paying close attention he'd have noticed that Prowl had already managed to undo his bindings but was simply waiting for the right opportunity. Before the 'Con could even lay another punch to Jazz's face Prowl had him incapacitated.

Starscream's second mistake was his over confidence and confronting the two Autobots without back up. With the Decepticon SIC unconscious, it was easy for the two well experienced black and white's to escape.

"Don't ya think ya were just a li'l too rough on Screamer?" Jazz asked, once they were a safe distance from the Decepticon base. "I mean, ya ripped off one o' 'is wings."

"I did warn him not to piss me off," Prowl replied, reaching up to gently caress the small dent in Jazz's face. "No one harms _**my**_ Jazz and gets away with it."

"Aww, Prowler, that has to be one o' the most romantic things ya ever said to me."

**The End.**


	3. Day Three

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

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**Day 3**: "Less than lovers, more than friends."

Change.

It was inevitable over the course of time.

It was expected during this war as locations changed, mechs changed, views changed…feelings changed.

Changes could be good or bad.

Changes could also be surprising.

One orn, the rough equivalent to three Earth month, after waking up on the organic planet, when the feelings of a tactician changed about a particular saboteur it was certainly surprising. But then at the same time it wasn't entirely unexpected.

After all, they'd been working side by side since the beginning of the war. The Autobot numbers were dwindling down over the vorns, the basic instinct of survival was prominent, the desire to seek companionship with another to quell their fears grew more frequent each and every cycle.

What was equally surprising was the saboteur's feelings seemed to also change towards the tactician. While no words were ever used express these feelings. There were the shy touches, the wider smiles, the closeness of the saboteur, daring to invade the tactician's personal space, something he never did before back on Cybertron.

On Cybertron the two were always professional, abiding by protocol and their mannerisms were that of the high ranked officers that they were. On Earth influenced by its many cultures and their new human allies, professionalism had gone out the proverbial window and a more relaxed, easy going environment prevailed…at least while off duty.

Even the most strictest of them turned a blind optic and feigned ignorance, so long as it didn't interfere with one's duties. One of the most professional of them was at times the most juvenile, whether on duty or not, unless he was on a sabotage mission. There was a understanding amongst them, that for the first time their fellow Autobots could simply live. Something they hadn't been able to do in so long.

And that initiated the change in how they perceived each other.

The only question was, what change in their relationship was to come next. Or perhaps more importantly, which of them was more willing to make that change.

In an odd turn of events, it was the reserved tactician who decided to take action first…

Prowl sat stiffly behind his desk. One hand was fidgeting about with his stylus. His optics weren't even focusing on the material on the datapad before him. He couldn't concentrate. His processor kept cycling over and over. Even his spark pulsed a tad faster than normal.

In a word he was nervous.

Yes nervous.

The stoic, no nonsense, always calm and collected Second in Command of the entire Autobot Army was as nervous as a first vorn cadet during their first cycle of boot camp at the Academy.

Why?

Well the cause of his nervousness was about to waltz through his office door. And Prowl knew he couldn't allow these growing feelings of awkwardness and nervousness to continue whenever around his best friend. His friend was much better and more adept to handling such emotions than Prowl. Which made Prowl wonder why his friend hadn't brought up the obvious between them. Instead, it was Prowl who was going to do something about it.

And what he had planned only made him more anxious. Which for some odd reason made it feel like the right thing to do.

"How illogical," he muttered to himself, setting the datapad and stylus down. Obviously he wasn't going to get any work done. With a huff from his vents he snatched the datapad back up. "At least hold the datapad, then you look like you're working, idiot."

Right on time, the door swished open. Prowl's spark coiled and his tanks lurched. As expected, Jazz strolled in, grin on his face, twinkle on his visor, and two cups of energon in his hands. For a mech who thrived on spontaneity, Jazz had a routine down just like Prowl. And everyday just before evening since they settled in on Earth, Jazz would show up in the CTO's office with two cups of energon.

"Evenin' Prowler," Jazz smiled, taking his normal seat across from the tactician. "I know ya missed yar break today so I thought I'd bring ya some energon."

"Thanks Jazz," Prowl replied, with his usual small smile, maintaining his calm, dignified demeanor on his outward appearance. "You alone keep Ratchet off my aft."

"I try," Jazz laughed, relaxed into his seat. "Can't have Ratch gettin' cranky an' throwin' wrenches at ma best friend."

That was a sign.

It was now or never, Prowl decided. He kept the cup in his hands, to keep them busy and to hide his nervousness.

"Jazz, how long have we been friends?" he asked, looking at the steam wafting off the pinkish liquid, too afraid to even dare to take a drink with as much as his tank was fretfully churning.

"Long time, ma friend. A long time."

"Don't you think it's time we both admit it?" Prowl asked, making direct optic contact with Jazz.

"Admit what?" Jazz asked with a smirk.

Prowl smiled warmly, "Jazz, we're both keenly observant mechs. I know you have not failed to notice that things changed between us after we woke up on Earth. The energon. The casual caresses. The lingering in one's private space. The long stares across the room when we think the other isn't looking or paying attention. Admit it, we're more than friends to each other."

"Ah but we're less than lovers," Jazz smiled kindly in return as he leaned forward, resting his arms on Prowl's desk. "Got any ideas how we can…remedy that?"

Prowl chuckled softly, reaching across with his hand open. Jazz didn't hesitate to accept the offer. Prowl's spark and tank calmed as his hand gently gripped the black hand resting in his. His smile grew with his new found confidence.

"I am quite prepared to take our relationship to the next level. Are you?"

"I ain't opposed. What do ya got in mind?"

"I propose we go out on a date," Prowl said, his thumb, gently caressing the back of Jazz's hand. "I've acquired passage for us to a concert."

"Ya got tickets to a rock concert?"

"Not exactly a rock concert. I'm aware of your love of any kind of music and chose a genre more…me."

"Ah see. Barbershop Quartet?" Jazz teased, making Prowl laugh.

"No."

"Folk music?"

Again Prowl laughed, releasing Jazz's hand and leaning back slightly into his chair.

"Rap?"

"Ak! Frag no!" Prowl exclaimed fluttering his doorwings. "I'll give you a hint…Beethoven."

"That Saint Bernard dog from the movie that slobbers on everything?" Jazz asked with the cheekiest grin he could ever flash.

Prowl shot him a mock glare that only made the saboteur breaking into a fit of wild giggles.

"Done?" Prowl asked after a few moments when Jazz's giggles began to quiet down.

"Sorry, Prowler. I'm done," Jazz smiled with a somewhat serious face. "So a symphony an' classical music sounds lovely. When's the concert?"

"This coming Saturday."

Jazz frowned leaning forward, a somber look on his face that made Prowl's tank plummet.

"Is…is there a problem?" Prowl hesitantly asked.

"Just one," Jazz replied seriously. "Three days is too long to wait."

"I don't understand. That's when the Philharmonic is performing. There are no earlier performances."

"Prowl, its not about the concert," Jazz smiled fondly. "Its about us bein' alone in a relaxed settin'. I know I can't wait until this weekend."

"Oh."

"Come with me, I wanna show ya somethin'."

Prowl was still somewhat confused but dutifully followed Jazz through the Ark, outside and then up a trail. Once to the desire spot, they stopped and took in the view of the Ark, the trees, the river, birds, and the slowly setting sun.

Finally Prowl understood.

"Ya spend far too much time in yar office, Prowler," Jazz spoke softly, taking a white hand in his. "Yar missin' out on some of the beautiful things this planet has to offa. But that's ok. Coz with me, yar gonna get to experience them."

"Is that a promise?"

"Ya bet yar cute aft, it is."

Prowl blushed making Jazz laugh. Then the two of them sat side by side watching their first of many sunsets to come.

**The End.**


	4. Day Four

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** Inspired by far too many cute pics of Prowl and Jazz as sparklings on deviant art.

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**Day 4**: Toddlers

Sparkling duty.

It wasn't something forced upon any mech or femme - no bot wanted to deal with distressed sparklings in the aftermath of forced sparkling duty. So only volunteers had sparkling duty integrated into their regular scheduled duties. And only a select few were given the task of taking care of _**all**_ five sparklings at one time.

Much to many mechs and femmes' surprise, Ironhide was one such mech.

The big red mech prided himself on being a competent caretaker, ignoring the jibes from his fellow Autobots. Ironhide was confident in the kind of mech he was and didn't give a slag what anyone thought of him. His reputation as a general kick aft mech wrecker spoke for itself. While the soft place in his spark was reserved only for sparklings and the femme he loved more than life itself.

Besides, there was no denying that he was exceptionally good at sparkling duty just as he was exceptionally good at kicking 'Con aft. The sparklings were always happy, cleaned, well fed, and knew to keep the safety activated on a weapon before touching it. The 'Cons were always dinged, dented, or charred with wounded egos from having their aft handed to them by an old mech.

Only this cycle…well this cycle just wasn't Ironhide's cycle.

The smallest sparkling and newest addition to the Autobot ranks, Bumblebee had a mild system upset. The normally bubbly, chipper, yellow mechlet was cranky even as he recharged restlessly which worried the big mech wrecker. He called Ratchet several times to ensure that little Bee was going to be fine and even insisted the CMO stop by, much to the medic's disgruntlement.

The twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, took a little longer than usual to put down for their recharge. When Hide got one quieted down the other would start crying. And since the twins were barely a deca-cycle older than Bumblebee, they couldn't move around much and only knew to cry when in discomfort. In the end, he figured out they just wanted to feel the warmth of a strong spark pulsing near theirs. It was easy enough since he had two arms and they were both out within klicks.

However, with Ironhide's attention focused on the three little sparklings, the two _**older **_sparklings didn't hesitate to take advantage of their unexpected freedom, especially because Ironhide forgot to put up the barriers to keep them confined to the main living room of Hide's quarters. Which on a good cycle was fine as the black and white duo were usually well behaved little mechlings.

Again, this cycle was not a good cycle.

Ironhide entered the main living room of his quarters and knew something was wrong. A soldier's instincts worked just as well on sparkling as they did on the battlefield. Of course, common sense also told him it was far too quiet. That and there was no sign of the little mechlets anywhere except for the abandoned toys on the couch.

But then Hide should have expected something like this to happen. After all, the two little mechlets had recently mastered the art of running from one place to the next and did so every time their tiny peds touched the floor. Walking never crossed their processors.

"Prowl…Jazz," he called.

Tiny mischievous giggles erupted wildly for a moment from behind a chair.

Hide rushed at it.

Shrieks and giggles sounded as two black and white blurs disappeared behind another piece of furniture. There, their boisterous sounds faded into quiet, rapid clicks and whistles. A sure sign they were discussing what to do to Ironhide next.

He wasn't worried about where they went or what they were plotting just yet. He was more concerned with the empty container of energon goodies that was behind the chair. Crumbs and dirty hand prints on the floor was definitely not a good sign!

"Oh no," Hide's voice quivered, his mind attempting to come up with some sort of plan to coral the little over-energized pit spawns.

Jazz was already hyper enough as it was. Add energon goodies and the mechlet had enough energy to take on a Decepticon battalion! Prowl, though he was quiet by nature, had his moments, especially if Jazz got him all riled up. The pair together when energized could wear down the most seasoned soldier!

Even worse, the fact that Hide could distinctly hear both little mechlets giggle and clicking rapidly meant one thing…trouble.

A beep sounded indicating the door to his quarters was about to open.

Frag! Figures, for once Ratchet was right on time!

"No!" Ironhide shouted but was too late.

And in a flash, the door opened to his quarters to reveal the cranky CMO and trouble occurred.

"What in the pit?" the CMO exclaimed, leaping out of the way as the sound of two highly energized and jubilant sparklings trilled and squealed with delight as they literally rocketed out of the room. "What that…hey you aft!"

"_**Move**_ you slaggin' idiot!" Ironhide shouted, shoving Ratchet out of the way in a not so polite manner, sending the CMO to the floor. He couldn't believe how fast the two little black and white mechs were! "Just check on Bee and watch the others. I'll be back."

"You'd better be back! I'm not getting stuck with the sparklings! Some of us have work to do!" Ratchet yelled, while still sitting on his aft, as Ironhide raced down the hallway in the direction Prowl and Jazz sped off to.

_**Meanwhile, in another part of the base**_…

Optimus had been walking slowly while reading a report when he stopped and curiously looked up from the datapad. The sound of Ironhide's voice echoed loudly through the hallways. Optimus tilled his head curiously, wondering why his weapon specialist was calling for Prowl and Jazz to stop. A moment later he got his answer and what Prime saw emerging around a turn was…laughable!

Mischievous and highly intelligent as always, Prowl and Jazz zipped around the turn like pros and raced straight towards Prime as fast as their tiny alt forms' wheels could take them. Which was faster than anticipated judging by how desperate Ironhide was trying to catch up to them.

A quick beep from Jazz's horn and a loud chirp from Prowl's siren made Optimus hastily get out of the way. He didn't want them to get hurt by colliding into one or both of his large peds. But he had to laugh at their audacity as they zoomed by. Most Decepticons would never dream of challenging the Prime in such a manner and most Autobots would never be so bold as to beep their horn at their Prime.

"Thanks for nothing, Optimus!" Ironhide shouted over his shoulder while he sprinted by.

"They're only toddlers once, Hide!" Prime countered.

"Retribution! Primus _**does**_ deliver! Remember that, Prime!"

**The End.**

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**End Notes:** There may or may not be a sequel to this using prompt 28 (Bots behaving badly). I'll let you readers decide.


	5. Day Five

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

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**Day 5**: "Why do I even bother?"

Jazz growled flinging the datapad onto the couch in anger and disgust. He stomped over to his music player, jacked the music up as loud as it could go and hit play. Then he offlined his optics and let the music dictate how his body would move. If anything could help take his anger away and clear his thoughts it was his music and dance.

Or so he hoped.

After a couple of songs it wasn't helping.

In fact it seemed to be having the opposite effect. As Jazz danced his rage boiled and festered to a point where he needed to release it before it consumed him completely. Always the improviser, he easily incorporated a few of his favorite fighting moves with his dance moves.

The wall was the first to suffer, followed by the floor, a chair, a light.

The music covered the sounds of destruction going on within Jazz's shared quarters. But it couldn't drown out his feelings from his bondmate no matter how much he tried to rein them in.

Prowl, having just returned to Iacon, immediately knew something was wrong. Jazz was upset about something and ignoring or blocking Prowl's attempts to reach out to him over their bond. Thus, as the tactician exited the shuttle it was no surprise when Jazz wasn't there to greet him like he usually did whenever the tactician returned from a mission.

Instead, Prowl's older brother Smokescreen was there. The somber look on his brother's face was yet another indication that something serious had transpired to cause Jazz's anguish and rage.

Prowl didn't hesitate.

"What happened? Why's Jazz so upset?"

"This," Smokescreen replied handing over a datapad to Prowl.

One look at the information and Prowl knew he had to get to Jazz. He told his brother to inform Optimus that he'd meet with his Prime as soon as he could for a debriefing. Smokescreen obliged, knowing that Prowl was the only mechanism on Cybertron who could comfort Jazz right now and that nothing, not even Primus himself, could stop Prowl from being there for Jazz.

Inside their shared quarters, Jazz's rage continued to control him. His optics were still offline, the music was still blaringly loud. He neither heard nor saw his bonded's entrance. So Jazz wasn't aware of the other mech's presence until the music was abruptly silenced.

Jazz on-lined his optics causing his visor to flare brightly and he glared at whomever dared to turn his music off. When he saw the sympathetic look of his bondmate standing there, guilt filled his spark and the turned away. Angry tears filled his optics as he clenched his fists.

"His death wasn't your fault," Prowl spoke softly, moving silently as ever across the room to wrap his arms around Jazz. The smaller black and white mech struggled to break free but quickly gave up as Prowl's arms tightened around him. "You know better than anyone the risks of being a special ops agent."

"Why do I even botha? Why do any of us even botha? We lose more an' more of ourselves to this cursed war! The fragging 'Cons are winnin' an' will get everythin' they want!"

"Then it is up to us to make sure that doesn't happen."

"Why? Why should I even botha?"

"Because deep down in your spark you know there are things worth fighting for, things worth clinging to with every parcel of energy we carry within our frames."

Jazz snorted, "Name one thin'."

Prowl moved to stand before his beloved and affectionately cupped Jazz's face in his hands, smiling fondly, "Love. You of all mechs know this. You were the one who taught me how love can drive us to be more than what we are. Love of our friends, our way of life gives us strength to defend all we hold dear in our sparks. Love gives us the courage to sacrifice our very life if it means saving the life of another."

"That is what ya believe," Jazz whispered.

"It is what you believe as well. It is also what Vroom believed. I know you were good friends and that you were preparing him to be the head of operations under Ultra Magnus' command in Kaon. He died for what he believed in, saving the lives of eleven younglings. It is for mechs like him that we must continue to fight. Personally, I can think of no other way to honor his sacrifice."

"Primus, I don't know wha' I'd do without ya, Prowl," Jazz gasped, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Silly mech, you'll never be without me," Prowl purred, kissing his mate. "Now, let's clean up this mess."

"Sorry I lost control," Jazz frowned, drooping his head.

"Don't worry, Jazz," Prowl smiled, tenderly lifting Jazz's chin up. "Nothing of value was broken and I think it was time we did some remodeling anyway."

Jazz laughed heartily, feeling infinitely better. As usual, Prowl was right about how Jazz felt. And if any mechanism every asked Jazz why he was fighting in this war, the saboteur would give them a crooked smile, look across a room and say "You see that handsome black and white Praxian mech there with the pretty doorwings and striking red chevron? He is my reason for living, my reason for fighting, my reason for loving."

**The End.**


	6. Day Six

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** Special thanks to Taralynden for allowing me to borrow Prowl's special nickname she dubbed him with and for editing this particular ficlet. Thanks again!

* * *

**Day 6**: "What am I to you?"

Rumors. Gossip.

The Autobots loved their rumors. They loved to gossip. It gave them something to focus on other than their worries of a possible civil war starting. The newer and more surprising the subject, that faster the rumor spread around the base, the more they loved to gossip.

Most of the time Prowl ignored rumors and idle gossip. He dealt with facts and statistics. Besides, most of the time they never had anything to do with him. Yet, when the rumor about him and Jazz being an item started circulating it actually made him smile, on the inside. As illogical as it was, for him it made his relationship with Jazz that much more real, that he wasn't dreaming.

During the infancy of their relationship all they did was have discreet outings together. Jazz respected Prowl's desire for their outings to be private, namely unannounced so they could easily slip away unnoticed by his colleagues, as he was a private mech by nature. All too aware of Jazz's need for spontaneity and knowing he had to compromise, Prowl would surprise Jazz with a special outing to visit a festival in Praxus or a musical concert in Iacon.

When their relationship had progressed to the next level, Prowl knew he was falling head over heels in love with Jazz, despite the fact that Jazz was older than him and a higher ranked officer. And Prowl felt that love was reciprocated whenever they interfaced, by the way Jazz touched him, spoke affectionately to him, or generally made Prowl feel like he was special whenever they were alone together. They hadn't moved in together yet but often would wake from recharge in each other's arms either in Prowl's quarters or Jazz's. Which was what had started the rumors when Jazz was seen leaving Prowl's quarters far too early one morning – it was a well known fact that Jazz was _**not**_ an early riser.

For several orns Prowl's life couldn't be any better. He was well on his way to becoming the top assistant to Jackpot, head of the military strategy department and the chief tactical officer to Prime, and was one step closer to his ultimate goal as CTO. Plus, he had the love of a mech he was devoted to and supported through good times and bad.

At least that's what he felt up until a few deca-cycles ago.

A few deca-cycles ago, Jazz had finally received the promotion he'd been working hard for - head of special operations.

And that's when Prowl's life seemed to begin to unravel.

At first, Prowl wasn't concerned because with this new job he knew Jazz had new responsibilities. In fact, he did his best to support Jazz as much as he could, even attempting to help organize Jazz's office so it didn't look as chaotic as his quarters. Jazz stoically refused Prowl's help, not wanting to burden Prowl with unnecessary work.

That was ok. Prowl understood each mech had their own responsibilities.

Things really seem to take a turn for the worst personally when Jazz started spending more and more time away from Prowl. They didn't meet as often for their daily rations in the morning any longer, if they did Jazz was always in a rush. Jazz even cancelled a couple of dates with Prowl.

But the first real blow hit when Jazz had forgotten about their romantic getaway they'd planned two orns before Jazz received his promotion and had ended up cancelling the trip because he wasn't going to be able to make it due to job related commitments. As usual, Jazz had given Prowl another apology and Prowl was beginning to doubt the sincerity of the apology from the mech he thought had loved him.

It was the following cycle after Jazz canceled the getaway when one particular rumor struck a chord with Prowl.

Prowl was already in a foul mood from the cycle before. This cycle ended up being particularly rough, one of the worst of Prowl's life. First thing in the morning, his superiors had piled on some extra work to his already extensive work load. He overhead Jackpot talking about promoting some other mech to the position Prowl had already been told would be his. To make matters worse, his small office had lost power and he had lost half of that morning's work.

Jackpot had been somewhat understanding and gave Prowl until the following cycle to complete the work. Still, it'd been late in the cycle, Prowl was exhausted and had been looking forward to spending even just a few quiet klicks with Jazz before he recharged. But before stopping by Jazz's quarters Prowl had stopped in the recreation room to get his ration of energon.

His silent tread had gone unnoticed. If the mechs talking there had noticed Prowl was even in the room, they would have been silent and what they'd said never would have landed upon Prowl's audio receptors. But he did hear it and fear flickered in his spark when he found that Jazz wasn't in his quarters.

Prowl was quick to dismiss it and chalked up his insecurity of the moment to fatigue. He knew Jazz was loyal and dedicated. Sure in the past Jazz had many partners, moving from one to the next. The mech liked variety, not the mundane. But Prowl refused to believe that Jazz was interfacing with another mech or that he'd even gotten bored with Prowl, despite the fact that they hadn't actually interfaced since Jazz received his promotion.

Yes, Prowl was aware many mechs and femmes found him boring, predictable because of his love for routine.

But not Jazz.

Or so Prowl thought.

After another deca-cycle passed, Prowl was starting to believe the rumors and gossip that Jazz was seeing another mech. Most rumors died quickly. Most subjects in gossip moved on. When one rumor kept circulating there had to be some semblance of truth to it, especially if it was all the gossip mongers kept talking about it and the fact that an actual name of the mech Jazz was seeing was now tied to the rumor.

And when Jazz didn't show up to have his morning ration of energon with Prowl _**again**_ and a couple of mechs were giggling and whispering things about Prowl, it set Prowl off. In a rare display of emotion, the black and white mech stormed through the base, using the base's main computer system to locate Jazz. He was tired of the rumors, the laughs behind his back, and the spark ache of being rejected yet again.

Prowl reined in his emotions as best as he could before he knocked on Jazz's office door. It was clear by the way his doorwings were trembling that he was having difficulty. Even after Jazz called for Prowl to come in, the mech was having difficulty keeping the emotions from showing on his face. They were clear to see judging by Jazz's startled expression.

"Prowl! Primus, I'm so sorry," Jazz exclaimed, rising up. "I meant to tell ya I…"

"No more apologies!" Prowl snapped, slamming the door shut. "I'm tired of hearing them!"

Stunned, Jazz sat back down.

"What am I to you? Am I just another conquest? A convenient frag until a better mech comes along?"

"What…No!" Jazz stammered, clearly confused about why Prowl was so upset. "I love ya."

"Do you really, Jazz? Do you?" Prowl growled. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I can only take what facts I know and draw my own conclusions. There's a rumor going around that you're fragging another mech…another Praxian behind my back."

"What? That's ridiculous!"

"Is it? All evidence suggests the rumor has some value. I even know his fragging name…Smokescreen! Plus, you're late. You've cancelled or turned down numerous dates, including our anniversary getaway we'd planned _**together**_! We haven't even interfaced in ten deca-cycles. And when we have a chance for an intimate moment, you fall into recharge!"

Prowl dropped into a chair on the far side of the room, exhausted, his voice full of the emotions rippling through his spark. He struggled to keep his tears at bay because he felt so hurt and betrayed.

"I can't take this anymore. If I mean so little to you then you should have just told me it was over instead of stringing me along! So, I'm asking you again…what am _**I**_ to you?"

While listening and seeing how upset his lover was, Jazz realized he had made a mistake. Prowl was the one mech Jazz knew he could always rely on to be there, to be understanding. And Jazz took the reliable mech for granted. In Jazz's mind he knew he'd been fragging up and he had promised himself that he would make it all up to Prowl, especially their anniversary getaway. He never forgot how hurt Prowl looked when he had to break that date. In fact Jazz had made special plans to make up for the past several deca-cycles. However, Jazz neglected to let Prowl know his intentions and promises and that was his mistake.

Without any hesitation, Jazz rushed to his lover's side and cradled the handsome face he adored so much in his hands. To further dissuade Prowl's fears, he retracted his visor so the mech could see the sincerity and love in Jazz's optics.

"_**Ya**_ 're the mech I love more than life itself," Jazz smiled warmly, one thumb caressing Prowl's cheek. "Without ya, I'm incomplete. An' I'm so sorry 'bout the past several deca-cycles. I'm scramblin' to keep up. I honestly had no idea that there'd be so much data work. I hate seein' those fraggin' datapads. Then I felt like I was gettin' pulled in all kinds o' directions workin' or trainin' the new recruits an' my superiors demandin' I do things a certain way an' me arguin' that I had to do things my way. But I didn't want to frag up. I really love this job. Only I made the mistake of sacrificin' too much of my personal life which meant ya gettin' the raw end o' the deal. For that, I am so sorry, Prowl."

"Why didn't you ask me for help or say something to me?" Prowl quietly asked, bowing his head feeling so ashamed now for getting mad at Jazz. "I love you. I would have done anything to help. I would have listened, I…I wouldn't have gotten angry."

"I know," Jazz sighed, lifting Prowl's chin up. "That's exactly why I couldn't ask ya for help. It's _**my**_ job, not yars. I couldn't burden ya wit' my work. An' as for not sayin' anything….well, I was bein' stubborn in not askin' ya for help. It's a mech pride thing. And also, I took ya for granted."

Prowl made a confused look that made Jazz chuckle.

"Ya're the very definition o' reliable, love. I knew I could depend on ya ta be there for me no matta what. An' my mistake was not lettin' ya in on what was goin' on in my processor, that for each time I had to turn ya down, I took it personally, that my spark ached, an' that I promised to make it all up to ya, Sparkles."

"Sparkles?" Prowl asked, blinking his optics in surprise.

"Yeah, my new nickname for ya because ya're the light in my life," Jazz grinned, kissing Prowl's cheek.

"That's so corny, Jazz," Prowl said but bowed his head bashfully, even blushed slightly from embarrassment. "But I like it."

"Ya do?"

Prowl nodded.

"Ya like it better than Prowler?"

"Definitely."

"Prowlie?"

"Ack!" Prowl winced. "Don't call me that ever. Reminds me of my Great Aunt Windrunner. She used to always call me that and pinch my cheeks when I was a youngling. Father used to call her Windbag because she could talk up a storm."

"Now I know where yar li'l brotha, Blue gets it from," Jazz chuckled. Then he sighed, turning serious again while caressing Prowl's cheek. "Sparkles, ya have no idea the affect ya have on me."

"I think I can figure it out," Prowl said, giving Jazz a big smile.

Again Jazz sighed, looking dreamily into Prowl's beautiful baby blue optics.

"I love how ya reserve yar smile for me only. Yar optics sparkle when ya give me that smile," Jazz breathed, placing a chaste kiss on Prowl's chevron while at the same time pulling his gift for Prowl from a subspace pocket. "And I know yar face is goin' to light up when ya see this."

Prowl gasped, gazing upon the small crystal sculpture Jazz presented to him.

"It's Praxian!" Prowl exclaimed, one tentative finger caressing the delicate crystal curves.

"O' course, the artist was too," Jazz smiled, then some what shyly continued. "Do…do ya recognize the meanin' o' the piece?"

"Certainly, even Praxian younglings are taught the symbols and meanings of…oh."

Jazz laughed softly, placing the gift in Prowl's hands.

"I realized I skipped a few o' the Praxian courtin' rituals. But I felt I needed to get this one righ'," he said, cradling Prowl's hands in his own.

Prowl was speechless. It never occurred to him that Jazz even knew about Praxian courting rituals or any of their symbols. Most outsiders didn't know unless they were being courted by a Praxian. Although this sculpture's representation was not that of a promise to bond it still spoke volumes of how much he obviously meant to Jazz.

He berated himself for even doubting Jazz's love for him.

"Will ya accept this gesture o' my devotion ta ya an' only ya?"

"I do," Prowl nodded, without hesitation.

"Good, now stop beatin' yarself up. It was my fault an' I have every intention o' makin' it up to ya," Jazz purred, revving his engine as he leaned closer.

"Right…now?" Prowl mumbled as they kissed.

"I have lots o' apologizing' ta do," Jazz smiled, pulling away, fingers still affectionately caressing Prowl's face. "Which I'm goin' to have lots o' time ta do wit' ya once ya get yar promotion because we'll be workin' together!"

"I'm not getting it," Prowl sighed, saddened that he had to disappoint Jazz. "I accidentally overhead Jackpot. They're giving the job I was vying for to Trailbreaker."

"That's because yar gettin' yar dream job."

"What?"

"In two cycles they're gonna make the official 'nouncement," Jazz grinned excitedly. "Jackpot is being promoted to Base Commander. He's taking over the Autobot Base in Kaon. An' ya're gonna be his replacement!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yup, I was there at the meetin' with Prime last night when Jacks said ya were the only mech qualified ta be his replacement an' that Prime wouldn't be disappointed in ya. They were gonna call ya in to the meetin' to tell ya but I begged 'em ta let me 'coz I wanted ta see that surprised look on handsome yar face."

"I'm beyond surprised! Primus, I don't know what to say!"

"Ya can talk to Jacks later. Ya preoccupied wit' me for at least two joors," Jazz purred, nuzzling Prowl's neck. He nibbled softly on an exposed neck cable making Prowl moan softly. "Oh, an' for the record, I had _**one**_ meetin' wit' Smokescreen and it was in his quarters. I wanted to make things up to ya, but in a special way. So I asked Smokey 'bout Praxian customs, the ones they don't teach in school."

"I feel like such an idiot," Prowl meekly responded, optics locked on the beautiful figurine.

"Nah, ya had every right to be angry wit' me. Ya have a passion 'bout ya Sparkles and ya're damn sexy when ya let it out."

"Only for you, Jazz, only for you," Prowl smirked, before losing himself completely to Jazz's love.

**The End.**

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**A/N:** If you didn't guess, Sparkles was the nickname I borrowed. I find it to be an adorable name for Prowl and I love it when Jazz calls him that. Thanks again for letting me play with it Tara!


	7. Day Seven

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** Mature content, human-halo forms, male/male; this is a rated R form as there are no descriptions of sexual organs and no fluids either. I leave it to your imagination for that part. Also, this is the first fic challenge using the Bay movie verse. All 6 of the prior fics were G1.

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**Day 7**: Leather

Prowl emerged from recharge slowly. The pleasant affects of his most recent overload still lingered through him. The feel of the warm body pressed so intimately against his own brought a small, content smile to his face. His arms habitually tightened around his lover's form, pulling the warm body closer, one leg intimately sliding over his lover's.

A long sigh escaped him as he relished the closeness of his bonded. He knew that such quiet moments as this were to be cherished and intended to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. Which in this case, wasn't long as Jazz stirred, snuggling into Prowl's embrace, making his smile grow.

"Ya're smilin'," Jazz mumbled huskily, one hand sliding down his lover's forearm before resting on Prowl's hand.

"How do you know, you're facing the other direction?"

"I jus' know 'cause I know ya so well."

Prowl chuckled softly, "That you do. Just like last night. I still can't believe I let you talk me into that."

"Ya regrettin' what we did?" Jazz asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"No," Prowl said, tightening his arms around Jazz reassuringly. "It was just…different."

"Did ya enjoy it?"

"Yes. Yes I did," Prowl sighed, placing a tender moist kiss on Jazz's smooth, bare dark skinned shoulder. "I didn't realize how sensitive humans actually are to tactile contact. They're not too different from us."

He slid his hand down Jazz's warm arm, taking in the firm curve of the toned bicep muscles, feeling how soft the dark hairs on Jazz's forearm felt as Prowl caressed them with his finger tips.

"We need to thank Ratch an' 'Jack for makin' our halo forms so realistic," Jazz sighed, shifting his legs slightly to get more comfortable in the confined space.

Prowl hummed in response, nuzzling Jazz's soft human ear.

"A li'l too real at times," Jazz exclaimed, shivering. "I need a blanket! It's gettin' cold in 'ere. Yar body is nice an' warm but the leather seats of yar alt form are gettin' cold against ma bare skin!"

"You were the one that insisted I go leather for the seats and interior door paneling," Prowl teased, getting an elbow in the stomach for his comment. Prowl chuckled while turning up the internal heat of his alt from. The black leather seats heated up as well as the interior of the police cruiser. "Better? Or do you still need a blanket?"

"Much betta, thanks," Jazz sighed contently and then started humming a Cybertronian song, one that indicated to Prowl of his lover's happiness.

Prowl remained quiet, observing his dark naked lover in the dim light. He said it once before to Jazz and he'd say it time and time again - it didn't matter what form Jazz took, he was always a beautiful sight to behold in Prowl's optics. Prowl loved Jazz for everything he was within his spark. The mech's outward appearance was simply an added bonus.

As the dutiful bondmate, Prowl always, always appreciated his love's beauty.

He took in the way the well toned muscles stood out on Jazz' arms and legs. He savored the smoothness of how his chest felt beneath Prowl's lips and hands. He enjoyed the feeling of how strong yet how gently Jazz's hands were whenever they caressed Prowl's slightly tanned white skin. He especially loved how those nimble dark fingers knew how to move through Prowl's dark wavy locks whenever they kissed. Most importantly he adored how those penetrating dark pearly eyes as they burned with fiery passion before hazing over whenever overloading was imminent. His spark soared content upon the vision of Jazz's satiated and relaxed face, the way he gasped loudly with his mouth open, eyelids fluttering as his overload rippled through him.

Jazz panted heavily in their afterglow, smiling at the feel of his bondmate's relaxed trembling body nestled between his legs and in his arms. Jazz shuttered his eyelids, savoring the small affectionate kisses Prowl placed on his face. Jazz immensely enjoyed the sensation of feeling such a strong, muscular, heaving chest pressed so intimately against his own. Opening his eyes and his spark fluttered at the loving look radiating from those piercing cobalt eyes.

"Wow," Jazz whispered, caressing Prowl's face.

Prowl laughed softly, "I can't believe it. I rendered the insatiable Jazz speechless."

"Don't get used ta it. It won' last long," Jazz countered and then smiled at the sound of Prowl's rich laughter rumbling through his alt form's interior. Jazz raised an eyebrow when he distinctly felt the black leather seat he was laying on vibrate. A sly grin grew on the saboteur's face, the kind of grin that usually resulted when a devious epiphany struck him.

"Oh, I've seen that smirk before," Prowl commented looking worried.

"What?" Jazz remarked, smiling as innocently as he could. "I was jus' struck by an idea. Now I wanna try it out."

"On me."

"Ya're the only one I would ever dream of tryin' it out on," Jazz smirked.

"Pit spawn."

"I'm yar pit spawn and ya love me," Jazz purred, kissing Prowl fully on the lips.

"Hmm, no argument there. So what do you need me to do now?"

"Ya've been such a wonderful bondmate to me," Jazz breathed, enjoying the feel of those soft, dark wavy locks as his fingers pushed through them. He smiled when Prowl half closed his eyelids, leaning into the caress. "It's time for me to take care of ya."

"Jazz, knowing you're happy is all the satisfaction I require," Prowl replied with a series expression.

"I know but there are times when I feel ya deserve so much more an' that is my duty to do what I must," Jazz countered just as seriously. "Please. I _**need**_ to."

"Jazz, I was never angry at you for getting yourself killed. You've nothing to prove to me. I'm forever grateful that we've been given a second chance."

"Yes, I now. But it does not quell my desire. I love ya an' I want to show ya. Please?"

"Very well," Prowl smiled, making Jazz's spark flutter wildly again.

Primus, he loved his mech so much.

"What do you require me to do?"

"Absolutely nothin'. But um…ya need to lay down first."

It took a few minutes for them to swap places, well longer because Jazz couldn't keep his hands off his lover's tantalizing body. And when Prowl yelped and smacked the top of his head on the ceiling of his alt form when Jazz affectionately pinched his love's ass Jazz broke into a fit of hysterical giggles.

"Done?"

"That look on yar face was priceless," Jazz snorted, still unable to rein in his giggles.

"So glad I can amuse you," Prowl grumbled just before Jazz watched his mate's halo form blink out of existence only to reappear fully clothed in the driver's seat. Jazz stopped laughing in an instant as the police cruiser's engine rumbled to life. "Things like this aren't as easy for me as they are for you, Jazz."

Jazz frowned, sending his sincerest apologies and deepest love for Prowl over their shared spark bond. There were times, extremely rare times, when Jazz forgot how reserved Prowl was and that it wasn't easy for him to do certain things without the help of his mate. The mech's life was all about his work. It was something deeply rooted in his psyche because of his overly strict upbringing. When they first met Jazz made it his personal mission to crack Prowl's shell. Of course falling in love with him was an unexpected result, one Jazz still thanked Primus for to this cycle.

"I'm sorry babe," Jazz sighed, sensing the mood was ruined by his own stupidity. "It is late. Perhaps we should go."

Silence hung in the air except for the purr of Prowl's engine for the longest of moments until Prowl finally spoke.

"No."

Jazz blinked in surprise at the response. Then heard the engine cut off and watched as Prowl's halo form disappeared and then reappeared laying with his arms behind his head and long legs bent just enough at the knees so he could fit neatly on the black leather back seat.

"You can make it up to me," he smirked and Jazz could feel his love being happily reciprocated over their bond. And he was grateful that Prowl wasn't as mad as Jazz first thought. "Plus, well…I kind of overreacted. For that I'm sorry."

"Prowl my love, ya do _**not**_ overreact," Jazz smiled, slid a hand over dark slack covered knee of Prowl's halo form.

"Do I need to lose the uniform?" Prowl asked, adjusting the badge slightly on his breast.

"As sexy as ya look in it, ya're even sexier without it, babe," Jazz winked slyly and then grinned more fiendishly when Prowl blushed. "But I leave it up to ya to decide. I only have one rule for ya to follow - ya can't touch me or kiss me."

Prowl made that one perplexed look that Jazz absolutely found adorable. A look only Jazz was able to draw from the stoic tactician.

"Trust me," Jazz whispered into Prowl ear before suckling on his ear lobe. Prowl nodded, his uniform disappearing. Jazz took one long look, drinking in his mate's form. "Close your eyes."

Jazz studied the strong handsome face as those warm blue eyes disappeared from sight.

"You were right about these human forms being so sensitive. And while they are a bit of fun, we must never forget who and what we are, " Jazz purred, one handing sliding sensually over the back of the black leathered driver's seat.

"That tickles," Prowl chuckled, squirming slightly.

"Ok, how about this?" Jazz asked, trailing a finger slowly, teasingly along the leather door panel that was an integral part of Prowl's sensory appendages that always flared so proudly on his back for Jazz to admire.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Prowl's halo form gasped, arching his back and his vehicle form shuddered at the same time, enough for Jazz to feel the vehicle rocking slightly. He smiled and continued with his pleasuring ministrations. In the past, he'd brought Prowl to overload before by simply manipulating the doorwings. But Jazz's human hands were less bulky, more nimble and could reach the most sensitive spots.

To Jazz's amusement, it appeared the leather part of the door panel was the most sensitive. He attacked it with nimble fingers, succulent lips, and a lively tongue. At the same time he monitored his bondmate's reactions for when to push further or retreat back ever so slightly.

Those beautiful baby blues were clouded with pleasure. That magnificent chest rose and fell with each moan, each gasp, each time he murmured Jazz's name. Those powerful hips rocked deliberately upwards at the same time the back of his shoulder pressed into the black leather seat. Jazz had reduced Prowl to a halo-human form of melted goo on the back seat of his own alt from.

"Jazz…please…" Prowl begged as a slightly pained expression crossed his face, those blue eyes were on fire making Jazz's spark skip within his own alt form that was parked immediately next to Prowl's.

Jazz watched as his bondmate's entire halo form shuddered with need. He could feel the raw energy of an impending overload building up in the police cruiser's frame. It wasn't just the fact that his bondmate was completely turning him on by writhing uncontrollably on the seat. But also, that his bondmate's alt form was trembling harder than before under Jazz's affections.

"Need…to touch…you," Prowl gasped.

Jazz instantly caved in upon hearing Prowl's plea and from his own flamed lust festering deep within. As much as Jazz enjoyed watching his mate, he further enjoyed his mate's affectionate participation and craved it passionately. As he did several times earlier that evening, Jazz surrendered to the Prowl's pleasures until he was thoroughly exhausted once more.

Once again, Jazz found himself being intimately cuddled with Prowl's arms and body on the leather black seat of the police cruiser.

"I love you Jazz," Prowl mumbled, kissing Jazz's ear.

"I love ya too, babe."

"I…I wouldn't be opposed to do this again in the future."

"Really?" Jazz asked, turning so he could see his lover's face.

"I'll even bring you a blanket."

"Ya do that, love," Jazz smirked and then captured Prowl's lips with his own.

**The End.**


	8. Day Eight

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

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**Day 8**: Oblivious

They had all been oblivious. Jazz included. He'd freely admit that like all the other bots on the base, except for Prime, Ratchet and Ironhide, he'd been oblivious to the feelings of their CTO and SIC, Prowl.

A vorn ago Jazz had been pulled from his post in his home city of Polyhex and given a promotion to head of special operations and third in command. It was like that with a lot of the officers at the base in Iacon, save the SIC, the CMO, and Prime's personal body guard, Ironhide and a few other soldiers that'd been promoted into more important roles. The majority of the previous officers had been assigned to other bases around Cyberton where their experience would be most beneficial.

And like Jazz, most of the Autobots on the base were new recruits or new to the base. They'd all only known their new commanders by reputation alone. And there were two they all instantly feared, including Jazz! The CMO and to a slightly lesser degree the SIC.

The CMO threw wrenches, even at his Prime, whenever mechanisms tried to skip out of a maintenance exam or dared to enter his domain without an appointment. Jazz had quickly learned Ratchet was all bark and no bite. The mech had a caring spark and a passion for his work with equally impressive and accurate throwing arms. The drive to never give up on a patient was not lost on the saboteur and despite getting beamed in the head with a wrench on a few occasions he had become less irritating than others with Ratchet over the vorn.

But that had always been Jazz's gift - to see to the spark of a mechanism. It's why Jazz had been a friend to many over his lifetime. There were only a rare few mechanisms that he could never warm up to.

A vorn ago that'd been Prowl. Jazz's first impression had been that the mech was cold by the way his clipped tone sounded and rigid posture looked. It was like the mech had no emotions of any kind. The fact that the SIC had a reputation for being a tight aft, rule abiding mech who'd toss anyone in the brig for the slightest transgression had done nothing to convince Jazz differently either.

Over that vorn Jazz had come to respect Prowl to a degree and had a formal working relationship with the mech. There was no denying the mech had a brilliant processor and that his battle strategies were nearly flawless the majority of the time. Jazz just could never get used to the percentages and statistics Prowl spewed out regularly with his plans.

To Jazz life wasn't about the logistics of numbers but about emotions.

And thus, Jazz like the majority of the base had come to believe their SIC was more drone than mech and never really got to know the mech. It wasn't like Prowl made it easy anyway. He was always working and appeared to have no social life whatsoever.

Little did they know how wrong they were. Jazz and the rest of them had been all oblivious and had no idea how the comments and jokes about their CTO actually hurt the mech. That was until the cycle Praxus was obliterated.

Jazz had been in the recreation room at the time the attack happened. They'd all watched in horror when the vid-screen showed the first images of mass destruction, courtesy of the Decepticons gloating about the attack. Moments later the sound of their SIC's voice had sounded from the PA system, giving orders for everyone to report to their squad leaders and to prepare to move out for battle.

However, there had been no battle.

When they landed it'd turned into a recovery mission and that's when Jazz's optics were opened wide.

Several Autobots, including Jazz were somewhat incensed. They all knew their SIC was from Praxus. Yet, the mech showed no remorse or anger, nothing at all to indicate what he was feeling as he issued orders in his usual calm manner. One mech made a remark about it that drew the wrath of Ratchet. That totally surprised Jazz. Ratchet _**never**_ defended anyone!

At first Jazz thought it was out of loyalty because Prowl had served with Ratchet under Sentinel's command before Optimus became Prime. But this was Ratchet the Hatchet. If you weren't dying or bleeding profusely he didn't give you anything for the pain. Then Jazz suddenly noticed how the doorwings had a slight tremor to them and that they were a tad lower than usual when Prowl gave a thankful nod to Ratchet.

Jazz's spark twisted with guilt. The mech's emotions were plain to see if one actually looked at his doorwings. Jazz suddenly recalled all the times he'd seen those doorwings tremble, droop, flicker, or swoop upwards. Each time they'd trembled or drooped tactician had been in the vicinity of someone commenting about him, when a report came in that a mech had died, or even when one of his battle plans didn't go according to plan.

Even all those statistics and percentages Prowl seemed to love now made sense. No mission was approved until it had an eighty percent or higher success rate. Two percent was the absolute maximum number of injuries Prowl deemed would occur during a mission. And he always reiterated how important it was for every bot to follow his mission precisely. Every aspect of his plans was designed to protect them while having a successful mission.

The mech _**cared**_ about them all.

But because Jazz, and many others, deemed him unapproachable and cold, they were oblivious to his feelings and blind to his dedication of keeping them all as safe as possible.

Prowl was more of an Autobot than the rest of them.

With that thought in mind, Jazz strode purposely over to Prowl's side. He refused to be oblivious any longer.

"Why don't ya let me help ya out, Prowl," Jazz spoke softly.

"I can manage," came the clipped reply but Jazz could hear it was strained and again felt guilty for he'd heard differences in Prowl's tone before but never gave them any thought.

"But yar hurtin'."

"That would imply I am more than a sparkless drone that only knows how to compute numbers and quote rules and regulations," Prowl said, still not bothering to make optic contact with Jazz.

Jazz winced.

"How about ya take a short break then?" Jazz asked, trying a new strategy. "Ya've been at this all cycle."

"Why do _**you**_ even care about my well being?" Prowl asked, staring down at Jazz.

"Because Prowl, ya care more about all o' us than we do ya. Because despite some o' the things we've said about ya, ya work hard to keep us all safe."

Prowl looked away but Jazz saw the brief surprised look in the mech's optics.

"I'm sorry I didn't make an effort to get to know ya sooner. I'm doin' it now because right now, ya could use a friend."

Prowl sighed, his frame sagged slightly but enough that Jazz noticed.

"I appreciate the gesture but I must continue working. This was my home. I can't let up until we find someone. We _**have **_to find someone…_**anyone**_ otherwise those who perished died for nothing."

"Fair enough, but I'm not goin' anywhere so give me somethin' to do," Jazz insisted.

"You don't give up easily do you?"

"Nope. I'm as stubborn as they come."

"Then see what you can do about getting Delta teams three and six out to their designated grid for search and rescue faster. Valuable time is being wasted."

"You got it, Prowl, Sir," Jazz smiled and then turned to leave.

"Jazz."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," Prowl replied with a small barely visible smile as he bowed his head and flared his doorwings.

The gesture was not lost on Jazz. He knew Praxian mannerisms very well.

"Yar welcome, my friend," Jazz replied.

At the end of eight cycles the rescue mission had been officially called off and a total of three hundred mechanisms had been saved, many thanks to a certain tactician's rescue and recovery plan. Three hundred out of one million. For a tactician the percentage was horrendous. For Prowl it was more than he could have hoped for. The city was lost forever but at least the culture would live on in all those that survived.

And at the end of the eight cycles Prowl looked at the ruins of Praxus for the last time and finally wept. Only one mechanism was there to bear witness to such a rare display of emotion from the tactician. Jazz allowed the mech to say his goodbyes to the family and friends he'd lost. Only when the doorwings stopped trembling and returned to their regal appearance did he dare speak.

"Are you ready to go, Prowler?" Jazz asked softly.

Prowl looked down, raising an optic ridge.

"Jazz, as I've told you before, it's Prowl. Not Prowl_er_."

"I know."

"Then why do you insist on calling me Prowler?"

"I just do."

"That's not logical."

"I'm not logical."

"Oh right. You're stubborn."

"That too," Jazz smirked, earning a soft chuckled from the tactician.

For Jazz it was the first of many laughs he hoped to share with the mech. And during that moment as the two slowly walked to their transport, neither Jazz nor Prowl had no idea that their new friendship with each other would blossom into a fiercely, passionate relationship and an enduring, loving bond.

**The End.**


	9. Day Nine

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **I totally blanked on this prompted. My muse refused to help. Over a year ago I wrote Happy Sparkday Prowl. This is a special edition of that fic, meaning I added to it, making it longer and hopefully better than the original.

'_italics_' denotes bond talk

* * *

**Day 9**: Birthday Party

Prowl was having a typical work day. Meetings with Optimus and a few of the officers during the morning. Chasing down Sunstreaker and Sideswipe for a prank – gluing Bumblebee to the ceiling in the shower racks – and then locking them in the brig. Then Prowl had to track down Wheeljack to get Bumblebee down from the ceiling. And finally, diligently working through the large stack of datapads on his desk.

All exactly as Jazz had planned.

The twins, Bumblebee and Wheeljack were running interference for a few hours giving Jazz time to take care of a few things for this special day. Blaster kept Bluestreak busy in the communications tower, mainly so the young gunner wouldn't discover the plan and thus prevent Blue from giving away the fact that they were having a surprise spark day party for his older brother. Even Optimus and Elita made sure Prowl was going to be busy through the afternoon by making sure the SIC had plenty of datapads on his desk.

With Prowl busy, Jazz had plenty of time to prepare his and Prowl's shared quarters for a romantic, cozy evening with a nice bubbling hot oil bath, energon treats for teasing his mate with, and arranging their berth to appear inviting for a nice bonding or interface session. Jazz was hoping for both actually!

At the same time, Ratchet was in the recreation room ordering a few of the mechs around, decorating the room with balloons and streamers to Jazz's specifications. Ironhide was in the recreation room as well guarding the special batch of highgrade Wheeljack had fermented for one Earth month to get the right potency. It was a secret recipe passed down from engineer to engineer only and one Sunny and Sides would die to get their servos on.

Jazz even made sure to take a break in the middle of the afternoon to interrupt his bondmate in his office, much like he'd do on any normal day - Prowl was too clever a mech that if the routine was off he'd be suspicious. Ever the attentive sparkmate, Jazz even brought his love some energon because Prowl rarely ever made it to the recreation room to get his own energon and also to make sure Prowl _**didn't**_ go to the recreation room. At the same time, Jazz reminded Prowl about the meeting in the recreation room at the end of his shift.

A meeting Optimus Prime had planned over a month ago and pointedly said that every Autobot not out on patrol or on duty in the command center had to attend. As far as Prowl and Bluestreak were concerned it was only a mandatory meeting to be conducted by their Prime. In reality, everyone else knew it was the surprise party.

"What do you think?"

"Looks good Ratch! I couldn't have done betta maself!"

"Here, Jazz! Try it," Wheeljack grinned, handing Jazz a cup.

"Wow! Oh mech! Whew! That'll knock the bolts off everyone's afts!"

"Jazz! Red Alert informs me that Prowl has left his office," Optimus announced as he and Elita were settling into their seats.

"Right on time," Jazz smiled, rubbing his hands together.

The saboteur couldn't wait! He was so excited about this surprise party for his love. So excited he was having trouble keeping his end of the spark bond quiet.

'_Are you over energized or something_?' Prowl inquired over their bond. '_Prime said this was a mandatory meeting. They never include drinking high grade_.'

'_Nah, Bumblebee's crackin' jokes until everyone gets here_,' Jazz quickly responding, tensing for a moment and hoping his bondmate believed the half truth. Bumblebee was cracking jokes with Cliffjumper and Mirage. However, Jazz wasn't listening to the young scout.

'_I guess he's fully recovered from today's incident then_?'

'_Yeah, he's fine. Just get yar cute aft over here, babe_!'

'_Coming, love_,' Prowl chuckled.

"He's two point three minutes away now," Optimus whispered after receiving another update from Red Alert.

"Hound, lights!" Jazz shouted quiet and the lights in the recreation room all turned off.

A few cat calls sounded and wolf's whistle blew. Some bot even let out a yelp.

"Quiet down everyone or your next maintenance exams will be _**most**_ unpleasant," Ratchet threatened.

The room fell dead silent.

It was so quiet that only those with sensitive audio receptors or sensors like Jazz, Mirage, and Hound were able to hear the quiet tread of the tactician as he neared the recreation room. With Hound in charge of the lights, his timing was perfect.

The lights flicked on, everyone shouted 'SURPRISE!' and then proceeded to sing Happy Sparkday just as Prowl stepped into the room. In turn, the tactician's head jerked up and his doorwings arched upwards suddenly. His optics widened and his mouth dropped slightly.

And before they could even finish the second line of lyrics to the song, Prowl's body stiffened more than usual, the telltale sign his CPU just crashed, and he fell over, landing flat on his back.

"Just _perfect_!" Jazz huffed sarcastically, staring at his prone bondmate's form on the floor.

"Don't worry Jazz, the high grade won't go to waste!" a few mechs laughed and cheered as the music came blaring on.

"And Prowl's presents will still be here for him to open when his processor boots back up in a couple of hours…or longer," Ratchet chuckled.

"You need help getting him back to your quarters?" Bumblebee asked, genuinely concerned.

"Nah, I got him," Jazz sighed and then proceeded to pick up his sparkmate off the ground.

Once he had Prowl slung over his shoulder he quietly headed straight for their quarters. From experience, Jazz knew that Prowl could be out for hours depending on how bad his CPU crashed. There really wasn't much the saboteur could do during that time except make sure his bonded was comfortable so he didn't have too many aches when he regained consciousness.

"Prowl, Prowl…what am I gonna do with ya?" Jazz spoke softly with a heavy sigh when the door to their quarters came into view.

"For starters, you could simply just put me down."

"AH!" Jazz exclaimed, jumping and dumping Prowl from his shoulder.

Luckily, the tactician was agile enough to land lightly on his feet.

"Did I startle you, Jazz" he asked, smiling innocently.

"Yeah, just a little," Jazz replied and then pushed a laughing Prowl. "Fragger! Ya dam near gave me a spark attack!"

"Sorry," Prowl smirked, straightening up. "I would have said something sooner but I had a nice view of your aft. It seemed such a pity to waste it."

"How…what…" Jazz stuttered for a moment before it suddenly dawned on him. "Ya faked yar CPU crash?"

Prowl nodded, grinning.

"Ya sneaky fragger! Do ya know how hard I worked to make this day special for ya?"

"I'm sorry. And yes, I do know how hard you worked," Prowl said, grasping Jazz's hands and pulling the mech close, pressing his lips briefly against Jazz's. "And I appreciate it very, _**very**_ much my love."

"Pfft, when did ya find out about the surprise party?"

"Not until I walked through the door."

"Come again?"

"I didn't know about the party until I walked through the door of the recreation room. My reaction of surprise was genuine. It also provided me the perfect means to get us back to our quarters," Prowl explained, inputting the code to unlock the door to their quarters. He gently tugged Jazz inside with him once the door was opened and once in the privacy of their room his demeanor changed from officer to relaxed mech. "It was actually your fault I found out about all of this early in the afternoon."

"My fault?"

"I'd accidentally left the duty roster in our quarters because _**you**_ so skillfully distracted me with those nimble fingers of yours, which also made me late for my meeting with Optimus this morning." Prowl received a sheepish shrug and warm smile from Jazz, making him hold his lover closer. "I guess because the music was so loud you never heard me come in to retrieve the roster. Anyways, it took all my will power to leave. I wanted to tell you right then how much I loved what you were doing. But I didn't want to spoil everything you had planned either. I knew it was important to you."

"Frag," Jazz frowned. "Optimus was _**supposed**_ ta keep his optics on ya to make sur ya stayed in yar office."

"Well, when Elita walks into his office his optics tend to stay focused on her, especially if the door is locked. So he never knew I left my office. Regardless, once I saw what you were doing I was truly touched that you'd go through all this for me."

"Then why fake the crash?"

"Because my beautiful Jazz," Prowl purred, nuzzling his nose affectionately against Jazz's cheek. "After I saw what you were doing for me in our quarters, it didn't matter what else you had planned for my Sparkday. All I wanted to do since this afternoon was be with you and express how I felt. And logically, the best way to do that was to get you to our quarters as soon as possible."

"An' ya guaranteed that we wouldn't be interrupted wit' that li'l stunt," Jazz grinned, wrapping his arms around Prowl's neck. "My clever tactician."

"What can I say? I'm good at my job."

"That ya are. But it's _**your**_ sparkday. It's _**my**_ job as yar bonded to pamper ya," Jazz cooed and then shoved Prowl onto the berth.

"As you said, it's _**my**_ sparkday," Prowl countered, yanking Jazz down onto him and then rolling over and pinning the mech to the berth. "I should be able to do what _**I **_want."

"But what about yar party and yar presents?"

"There will be other parties," Prowl mumbled, kissing Jazz. "And _**you**_ Jazz are the best gift a mech could ever hope to receive."

"Ya're such a sweet talker Prowl. Ya humble me. I love ya so much."

"Thank you for loving me, Jazz. Thank you for everything, for the party the others will certainly enjoy, for the being in my life, for the oil bath we're going to enjoy after I make love to you, and especially for those energon goodies that smell really sweet."

Jazz laughed heartily melting into his lover's affections, deciding that even though everything didn't go according to his plans, Prowl's Sparkday was still perfect.

**The End.**


	10. Day Ten

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

* * *

**Day 10**: "Prowl used to be a what?"

"Prowl used to be a what?"

The question hung heavily in the air.

Some mechs lashed out angrily while others were still oblivious to the truth that'd some how leaked out. A few mechs disregarded the accusation claiming it was bullslag while a few others didn't care. Surprisingly, the twins were very vocal in defending him. He didn't think they cared that much about him with all the processor aches they'd given him.

Prowl stood there in the middle of the recreation room unable to meet anyone's optics while Optimus and Ironhide standing there to protect him. He couldn't even speak a word to defend himself from the accusations of his fellow Autobots for fear of getting attacked. When he had it didn't turn out so well for him or his doorwings.

But what really made his tank churn was the devastated look in Bluestreak's face before he turned away, refusing to look at Prowl. He never wanted to hurt blue in any way. Then when Jazz gave Prowl an equally solemn expression it was almost too much for Prowl's spark to bear.

These were the two most important mechs in his life. He loved them more than anything. Blue was the closest thing to a son he'd ever hope to have and Jazz was the only mech he ever considered bonding to and had even contemplated asking.

Now it seemed that it was all lost. His career. His friends. His loved ones. His battle computer couldn't even come up with a way out of this. Never in so many long vorns had he thought that a part of his past life would be so detrimental.

_**Two joors earlier…**_

"I can't believe you got it!" Sideswipe exclaimed clutching the datapad his brother Sunstreaker just handed him as he sat down.

"Believe it, bro!"

"Got what?" Bluestreak asked curiously as he sat down at the same table.

"You know you're going to have to tell him," Cliffjumper remarked joining them. "He might let it slip about who it was that put the dye in Prowl's shower system.

"That was you guys!" Bluestreak gasped in utter disbelief. "Prowl was so mad!"

"_**Thanks**_, Cliffjumper," Sideswipe growled.

"No problem. I just wanted to know what has you twins so excited too," Cliffjumper grinned devilishly.

"Well, we were going to have to share with someone eventually," Sunstreaker smirked, shrugging his shoulder. "The stuff in those files is too good to keep to ourselves!"

"You mean…"

"Yeah bro, I already looked a few up. There some good stuff in these files," Sunny answered his brother's unasked question as he retrieved the datapad. "Ok, so which officer do you want to look up first?"

"Optimus!" Bluestreak said, not really knowing what the brothers were talking about.

"Can't look up Optimus," Sunny frowned. "All his records are sealed by the High Council. You have to be a Council member to even know where to look for them."

"How about Ratchet?" Cliffjumper suggested. "I bet he was some criminal or something. He's too violent to be a medic."

"Ok, lets see what we've got on ole Ratchet the Hatchet," Sunny grinned, activating the search on the datapad. "Here we go. Pfft, sorry to disappoint you Cliffjumper but Ratchet is clean. Graduated at the top of his class at Medical & Science Academy in Iacon. He worked his way up to Chief of Staff at the youngling's hospital until he was ask to be Sentinel Prime's personal physician. Within two orns he was the Chief Medical Officer on the base. A position he still holds to this day."

"Wow, that's impressive," Bluestreak gaped. "Hey, what about Jazz?"

"Good one, Blue!" Sunny exclaimed.

"Let me do it," Sides said, snatching the datapad from his brother's hands. In a matter of moments he pulled up Jazz's personal data file. "Pfft, figures, Jazz used to sing and dance professionally since he was four vorns old! Oh look there's even a vid-pic!"

"Holy slag, look at how little he was!" Sunny laughed.

"He volunteered to become an Autobot after his creators were killed during the party after what had become his last musical performance," Sides added sadly.

"Yeah, it was so sad," Bluestreak said solemnly. "That was the night the Polyhex invasion started. Jazz didn't know a thing about fighting but did what he could against the Decepticons. He joined the Autobots after they successfully forced the 'Cons out of Polyhex."

"I wonder if he sings and dances for Prowl," Sunstreaker joked, making his brother and Cliffjumper laugh.

"He still dances but he'll never perform again," Bluestreak seriously said. "I asked him once why he still dances if he doesn't perform. He told me it keeps his joints limber for more flexibly for various activities professional and private."

"Ak Blue! We didn't need to hear that!" Sides exclaimed, covering his audio receptor.

"Yeah, its bad Jazz and Prowl and trading paint on the berth we don't need any images like that!" Sunny added.

"Quick lets look up someone else like Ironhide," Cliffjumper suggested.

"Can't," Sunny frowned looking disappointed. "His file was too big. I had no idea he was so old. I mean he makes Ratchet look like a sparkling. Besides, we all know Ironhide was made for war. From what I read he won his first plasma rifle contest when he was only six vorns. If I went back further I'd probably find that he was born with a gun in his hand."

"What about Prowl?" Bluestreak asked excitedly.

"No he was sparked fully mature!" Sides joked.

"No, no, he was a drone and was converted to an Autobot when his battle computer was installed," Cliffjumper laughed.

"Guys, he's not that bad once you get to know him," Bluestreak said. "He is my mentor after all. Raised me since I was five vorns old. He's the closest thing I have to family."

"Let's see what we have about the prick then," Sunny winked at Blue.

Blue rolled his optics. It took him a long time but he finally learned to not let what Sunny and Sides say hurt his feelings.

"Holy Primus!" Sunny gasped. "Check this out! Unbelievable. Prowl our SIC, CTO, pain in the aft, stick up the tailpipe, who loves tossing us in the brig for the slightest transgression used to be a juvenile delinquent! First arrest at seven vorns - theft. Same vorn, second offense - assault on a youngling that was twice his age! Theft, assault, breaking and entering, assault on an Enforcer! There's more but its removed."

"Probably some higher end crime like murder or attempted murder," Sides added.

"That…that can't be right," Bluestreak said worriedly. "You're joking right, Sunny?"

"I knew he was too perfect," Cliffjumper growled, slamming his fist on the table making Bluestreak flinch. "No wonder he doesn't like you guys pulling pranks on him in his quarters. He probably hides all those hidden files there."

"No!"

"Face it, Blue! Prowl's a criminal! A filthy criminal who doesn't server to be an Autobot," Cliffjumper continued. "We have to warn others! Frag, he could be after Optimus. He's smart could make it look like an accident! Our Prime's in danger!"

"Whoa, this is still Prowl we're talking about," Sunny said, noticing how others in the recreation room were curious about what was going on. Especially after Cliffjumper damn near shouted that Optimus' life might be in danger. "He's a glitch not a murderer."

"Yeah, if he's as smart as we all think he is, he would have already taken out Optimus," Sides tried to helpfully add.

"No, no, he can't be a criminal," Bluestreak wept and that's when all pit broke loose in the recreation room.

Some ten klicks later, an unsuspecting Prowl had entered to room to get control of the situation and was immediately attacked by Cliffjumper and several other mechs. He barely managed to call for help before his communicator was destroyed. But that damage was minor compared the rest. During the scuffle both of his door wings were dislocated and his armor dented badly. It took Optimus and Ironhide, along with a few others to calm everyone down and get to the spark of the matter.

And now, here Prowl stood in pain with Ratchet tending to his injuries while Optimus worked on crowd control.

"Is it true, Sir? Is he a murderer?" someone in the back of the room asked.

"No," Optimus replied with full conviction.

"But you can't deny he was a fraggin criminal!" Cliffjumper shouted with a few mechs mumbling angrily in agreement with him.

"Shut your fragging mouth Cliffjumper I'm sick of your narrow-minded views!" Smokescreen shouted, punching the minibot square in the face. "Did you even read Prow's entire file? Did any of you dare to discover how a young mech who had _**nothing**_ turned his life around?"

Silence followed. Some bots still looked confused about what exactly was going on. Bluestreak was being comforted by Jazz but both looked eager to hear what Smokey had to say.

"Let me tell you what's not in the file. While most of you lived with the comforts of a family unit or a the care of a youth center Prowl didn't. His own creators dumped him on the streets of southern Kaon when he was barely six vorns old. All because he had a glitch. A glitch that he didn't' know how to control and so ended up having these strong emotional outburst, almost like fits. He became wild. He _**stole**_ to feed himself. At age ten a local gang of thugs picked him up and took advantage of him. The told him what to steal and who to beat up. So yes, he became a juvenile delinquent."

"Blow it out your tailpipe, Smokey!" Cliffjumper growled. "No one wants to hear your bullslag."

"Shut the slag up or I'll ram my fist up _**your**_ tailpipe and rip out your spark!" Sunstreaker growled, menacingly standing over the minibot.

"Smokey, how do you know so much?" Jazz asked, one around still comforting Blue.

"Because I was the arresting enforcer on many occasions and had gotten to know him very well. It wasn't uncommon to find younglings or even sparklings of different ethnic backgrounds abandoned and near death in Southern Kaon. The sector had the highest crime rate. Too often did I arrive on a scene to find an empty shell of a sparkling or youngling. With as old as Prowl was when he was dumped there, left with no means to fend for himself, he _**should**_ have been one of those empty shells."

"Looking back all I could say was it stubbornness or determination…he was driven by some force deep within his spark. It's what enabled him to survive. It's what made him realize one cycle that he wanted to do more with his life. And when this youngling of fourteen vorns, scared out of his processor for leaving his gang without permission, arrived at my domicile, I did what his own creators refused to do. I gave him a chance."

"I wasn't the greatest of mentors and why he chose me I still don't quite know," he smiled, winking at Prowl who nodded his head. "But it was a proud cycle when I saw a young mech, who literally started at the bottom, who worked hard to earn his academic education and who worked even harder to be accepted in the career of his choosing, receive his Enforcer's insignia. I was proud then to call him brother. I'm prouder this cycle to call him my brother and our Second in Command."

"So yeah, Prowl was a juvenile delinquent when he was a youngling but he's more of a mech than anyone in this room, except Optimus of course, because of the courage it took him to be where he is this cycle. Think about that…do any of you have that type of courage within you?" Smokescreen asked, glaring hard at Cliffjumper. The red minibot looked away. "I thought not."

Without being told, many mechs, especially those who'd actually caused the physical damage to Prowl, came over to him and apologized. And those same mech gave Cliffjumper the cold shoulder until the minibot gathered his courage and swallowed his pride and apologized to the SIC.

"Your apologies are accepted. Optimus I want it on record that I will not press charges against any mech here," Prowl stoically said despite the pain he was in.

"Very well. I put it in my report," Optimus said and nodded dismissing his officers. "Ratchet give me your report on Prowl's injuries as soon as you can."

"Understood Prime," Ratchet replied. "Ok, let's get you to the medbay Prowl."

"One moment," Prowl pleaded softly as Jazz and Bluestreak rushed over, both apologizing for having any doubts. "It's ok. Blue please, stop crying. I'm fine."

"He'll be ok," Jazz smiled, rubbing Blue's helm.

"Sorry, I didn't tell you. It's a part of my life I'm not proud of and yet it's what's made me the mech I am today."

"Don't worry about it. I got over bein' hurt when I realized yar past isn't important. It's what we have now that's important."

"And our future…together."

"Of course," Jazz grinned, gently hugging Prowl.

"No," Prowl said, grabbing Jazz's hand and holding it close to his spark. "_**Together**_…as one."

Jazz's face went from bewilderment, to astonishment, and to pure, exhilarated joy all in a matter of astroseconds.

"Did ya just…?"

Prowl nodded his head.

"What do you say, Jazz?"

"He says yes!" Bluestreak exclaimed, making the black and white mechs laugh.

"What he said," Jazz grinned before Prowl gave him a chaste kiss. "Hmm, most definitely yes."

"Good," Prowl sighed in content and in relief.

"Guess what everyone! Prowl just asked Jazz to bond with him and he said yes!" Bluestreak shouted.

"Oh Primus," Prowl groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'll coral 'im. Ya get fixed up an' I'll stop by the medbay later."

Prowl smiled and nodded but kissed Jazz one more time before scanning the room, looking for Smokescreen. He wanted to thank the mech but alas he was nowhere to be found.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Ratchet, I'm ready," Prowl nodded and limped after Ratchet.

It was along the way that Prowl spotted Smokescreen. It appeared the mech had been waiting for Prowl.

"I'll see to he gets to the medbay," Smokey spoke softly.

"Five klicks, any longer and the pain reliever wears off."

"Sure thing, Ratch."

"How's the leg and wings?"

"I can't feel the wings right now, thankfully. The knee joint had only minor damage. I will recover just fine."

"Good."

"Smokey, I just wanted to say thanks for all the things you said back there. I know you don't like the spotlight like that."

"Well, someone had to say something and I was more than happy to do it," he smiled at the younger Praxian. "Will you one question for me? Why _**did**_ you choose me? There were more honorable mechs at the precinct you could have chosen."

"True, but you were always honest with me. You never handed me any bullslag and gave it to me straight. You didn't try to change me but you warned me who to keep my optics out for and avoid if I wanted to stay alive. I respected that even though you were an Enforcer and I was a 'criminal'. So when you said you believed me after I told you I wanted off the streets and a chance at a better life…I knew you were telling me the truth. For that, I'm forever grateful to call you _**my**_ brother."

**The End.**


	11. Day Eleven

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Another bayverse, pre-2007 movie

* * *

**Day 11**: "Loving someone deeply gives you strength; being loved deeply by someone gives you courage."

It was a cycle neither of them wanted to ever happen. An inevitable cycle both wished desperately hadn't come to pass just yet.

Prowl couldn't recharge. He didn't dare recharge. Not tonight. Not when it was going to be the last night he was going to see Jazz for possibly a very, very long time.

Instead, Prowl lay silently, cupping the smaller form of his love with his body, taking in the well mapped contours of Jazz's frame and how they fit so perfectly with his own. They'd been a perfect fit from the moment they met, long before the war for Cybertron had begun, long before innocence was taken away.

Their friends had told them they'd never last as a couple. They were constantly reminded that they were polar opposites with nothing in common. Yes there were opposites in many ways. But their friendship was forged on their strengths complimenting each other – Jazz's wild side was satiated by Prowl's calm demeanor and Prowl's reserved side was cracked by Jazz's open friendliness.

Their love blossomed when they learned how the things they had in common laid a solid foundation for their relationship – they both had strong family values and understood the commitment more than any mechanisms their age and they were both as stubborn as they came. And much to their friends' surprise, they were bonded less than a vorn after they'd met.

Now, over millennia later, their bond was still strong, their love still enduring.

A single tear rolled down Prowl's cheek. The love for his mech was so powerful he could do nothing to restrict it from flowing so freely from his core. He was going to miss this closeness, miss the feeling of their love over the bond. He was just going to miss everything that was Jazz.

As if sensing his bondmate's inner turmoil, Jazz emerged from recharge in an instant. He turned over in his love's arm, worried expression on his face while reaching to wipe the tear away.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb your recharge," Prowl spoke softly, leaning into Jazz's caress.

"I wasn't really rechargin'," Jazz smiled. "I felt like I was bein' watched."

"Sorry," Prowl whispered, dimming his optics. "You are always a sight to see whether you're recharging or in the peak of a passionate moment."

"Hmm, ya up for a passionate moment or two?" Jazz asked, sending rather potent lover surges over their bond while trailing a finger slowly down the middle of Prowl's chest.

Prowl didn't need any more cajoling. His lips descended fast and hard on Jazz's. And Jazz responded with equal fervor. Their kisses were primal and touches were desperate. Their bodies moved with a fierce, almost animalistic desire that needed to be satiated. As a result, their first overload came intensely fast making them cry out in surprise.

For the next several joors, well past the time to get up, they made love to each other over and over. Each taking the time to affectionately love the other. It didn't matter who was on top or who was on bottom. All that mattered was the love and emotions flowing between them, mingling between them when they finally merged their sparks.

Neither cared about duty as they cuddled close in their afterglow. Not that Optimus was going to reprimand them. No one cared really. Every mech or femme on the base knew about the five mechs that would leave Cybertron in search of the All Spark.

Prowl suddenly laughed softly.

"What is it?" Jazz asked, lifting his head off Prowl's shoulder, trailing one finger across Prowl's strong jawline.

"Something my mother once told me just came to mind. Something I hadn't thought about in a really long, long time. You see, she was terminally ill and on her death bed when she told me. I was very little and of course didn't fully understand. All I knew was my mother was dying. I was scared. And I had asked her if she was scared. She told me no."

"An' o' course ya asked why?"

"Of course, I was only four but too smart for my own good. Why or how come were my two favorite questions at that age," Prowl said, making Jazz giggle and snuggle in Prowl's arms. "She said she wasn't afraid to die because loving someone deeply gives you strength and being loved deeply by someone gives you courage. I understand now that her love for me made her strong, gave her strength to endure the pain I never knew she was experiencing because she never let me see it."

"An' 'coz of how much ya loved yar motha, it gave her courage ta face anything', 'cludin' death."

Prowl nodded, caressing Jazz's face.

"My love for you, Jazz will give me the strength to carry me through until the cycle we are reunited. No matter how long it takes."

Jazz firmly took hold of Prowl's hand and held it against his chest and smiled, "An' yar love for ma will give ma the courage to face any adversary to cross ma path, knowin' that each one I conquer will bring closer together 'til the cycle we are reunited. An' we _**will**_ be reunited, I promise ya that ma love."

**The End.**

* * *

**A/N: **Remember for them this is a happy ending. They've no idea of the future and what happens to Jazz on Earth.


	12. Day Twelve

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Special thanks to Taralynden for feeding my muse a couple of lines to help me catch the bunny on this one. Yes, I shamelessly asked others for ideas because my brain has been so fried trying to come up with 30 fics! Sometimes I just need a spark to get going. And I never know what will inspire my muse – a random word, a song, a picture, anything is fair game. In this case a couple of lines of dialogue and tada - ficage!

* * *

**Day 12**: "Yes I know I said that, but I actually meant…"

Prowl stood stoically before his fellow Autobots…waiting. After several moments of no one moving he started to get nervous but refused to let it show. After a full two klicks one of his doorwings minutely twitched. Prowl casually shifted his weight from one ped to the other to disguise the twitch just incase anyone noticed.

Frag it!

"Very well, dismissed," he announced and the mechs couldn't scramble fast enough to exit the room, save one who'd been leaning casually against the wall to Prowl's left the entire time.

"Well, it looks like ya're it," Jazz smirked, pushing away from the wall.

"_**It**_?" Prowl questioned, raising an optic ridge.

"Yeah, _**it**_ as in no one else is gonna do it. Besides _**ya**_ said ya would…"

"I can't do it! I don't have time!"

"But ya said ya would. So ya'd betta make the time."

"Yes, Jazz, I know I said that," Prowl groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But I actually meant it only to set an example so others would volunteer."

"Well, ya did. Ya volunteered and now ya gotta do it."

Prowl sighed, dropping his doorwings.

"Besides, I told ya no one would volunteer for it," Jazz said as he headed for the exit. "They'd have to be out o' their processa ta wanna do _**that**_!"

Prowl glared at Jazz's backside even though he knew the mech was right. Honestly, what was he thinking? Just then his battle computer came up with the perfect scenario. No way in pit was he doing _**this**_ all by his lonesome!

"You know, Jazz, as my _**friend**_, it is your duty to stick with me and see me through this…insanity," Prowl said almost smiling, minutely, as Jazz came to a stop and cringed. "I should also point out that _**you**_ still owe me for covering your graveyard shift of monitor duty last orn."

"Oh, ya're good," Jazz replied, narrowing his optics behind his visor.

"Of course I'm good. I'm a tactician," Prowl smugly commented as he walked by, doorwings held high. "We head out in one joor. _**Don't**_ be late."

_**One joor, fifteen klicks later…**_

"Well, we're here," Prowl sighed, staring up at the door situated at the top of the short staircase. "Let's get in there and get this over with."

"After ya, I insist," Jazz smirked, bowing his head.

"Nonsense, you can go first."

"Yar, the SIC."

"All the more reason why you should go first."

"For pit's sake! We're both mechs here!" Jazz shouted. "What are we afraid of?"

"We go together then?" Prowl asked.

"Agreed."

"I thought you'd be perfect for this, every mechanism likes you," Prowl said as they slowly, reluctantly headed up the stairs.

"True but even I have limits on what I volunteer ta do. And _**this**_…no way would I…"

He was cut off when the door suddenly opened to reveal a startled pale blue femme.

"Hello!" the femme smiled, her optics landing on their insignias and recognition spread across her faceplate. "Oh, wonderful! You're right on time…"

"I'm Prowl and this is Jazz."

"How lovely! I'm Moonracer. Now, if you'll follow me please. There's no time to waste. We've been looking forward to this cycle for some time now."

Prowl felt his spark pulsing rapidly as the femme - who's name was Moonracer but could have been Mistress of Unicron as neither mech actually were tuned in enough to really hear it - led them through the facility. He noticed Jazz looked equally nervous, a rarity for the saboteur. Prowl felt his confidence slipping into oblivion - if Jazz was nervous about this then Prowl had good reason to be terrified!

Right then and there Prowl promised himself that he was never, ever going to _**volunteer**_ for anything to set an example again unless it was going into battle with Decepticons.

No way in pit!

"Here we are," the Mistress of Unicron smiled sweetly as she reached for the door they'd arrived at. "They're all very excited and can't wait to meet you."

And just like that the Gates to the Pit were opened.

The smell of sweet energon briefly hit their olfactory senses just before the screams of a dozen or so loud and hyperactive sparklings, all about knee joint high, struck them to their core. Prowl's visible doorwings trembled. Jazz, equally afraid, discretely moved to stand behind his 'so called' friend – honestly, Prowl _**was**_ bigger.

"Well go on, have some fun!" the femme cheered and with surprising strength shoved the two mech across the threshold.

Before either mech could contemplate retreating the door was shut behind them. Prowl swallowed hard. Jazz felt his processor spinning. Trepidation filled them as the dozen or so pit spawns raced to and fro, screaming and hollering wildly.

"**THE AUTOBOTS ARE HERE**!" one screamed practically startling Prowl out of his armor or was it Jazz climbing up his back that startled him. The SIC couldn't tell as the two were almost simultaneous!

"Primus help us," Prowl muttered.

_**Four joors later…**_

"That wasn't so bad," Prowl smiled as they exited the youth center. "It was actually very enjoyable."

"Yes it was," Jazz grinned.

"To be honest, I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"Off duty of course," Jazz added while in perfect agreement.

"Of course," Prowl replied as stoically as ever, hands on his hips and a multitude of colored painted handprints scattered across his frame from head to ped.

"Ya missed a spot or two," Jazz snickered.

"Primus! Don't remind me. I just hope no one I know sees me!"

"Well, maybe next time ya shouldn't let them use ya like a canvas for paintin' on."

"Hmm, how'd you manage to come out without any paint on you?"

"I'm just that good," Jazz smirked and then folded down into his alt mode.

Before Prowl even contemplated transforming into his alt mode he suddenly had to do everything in his power to not laugh at the sight of Jazz's rear bumper.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing…paint in a cog," Prowl coughed then quickly transformed.

The stoic SIC maneuvered to be in front of Jazz as they headed back to the base. He wanted to ensure that when they got back to base everyone saw all the hand prints and hieroglyphs spelling 'We Love Jazz!' on his friend's rear bumper.

**The End.**


	13. Day Thirteen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

* * *

**Day 13**: They didn't get together often, so they made the most of the time they had

Prowl's job as SIC to Sentinel Prime was demanding and left him very little time for his private life. A private life that if Prowl had been an unbonded mech he would have been ok with. For Prowl his duty was extremely important. He fully believed in the oath he took to server his Prime.

Only problem was that Prowl _**was**_ bonded. And with equal conviction, he believed in the sacred vows to love, cherish, and protect his bondmate. Vows that he'd upheld for some one hundred vorns in peace before the civil war started. And for each of those vorns their love for each other grew stronger and stronger.

It pained them both when the war started to see Cybertronians divided, friends become enemies, families broken. It was something neither of them could hide from no matter how much they'd wanted to. Prowl for one knew his bondmate wanted to fight and he could never deny the passion of his beloved.

Thus they had joined the Autobots under one condition – that they not reveal their bond to anyone. It was the only way they knew they could protect each other.

For vorns it'd been fine. They'd both been station at Iacon and saw each other often but in private and always had been discrete about their meetings ensuring that no one would ever discover their secret. The problem had been that they were both far too good at their jobs. They'd risen quickly through the ranks – Prowl became the CTO and then SIC and his bondmate became the top solo field operative in Special Operations. The promotions had ended up splitting them apart for orns at a time.

And when they were reunited it was for only a few joors or if lucky a single cycle. Knowing time was always short, each rendezvous whether planned or spontaneous had always been ablaze with passion.

A door slid open pulling the mech out of his reverie. A warm smile spread across Prowl's face upon hearing the familiar tread. He leaned forward setting the datapad down on the table before him as knowing hands affectionately caressed his wing sensitive panels.

"How long do ya have?" that deep voice he loved so much whispered into his audio receptor, sending a shiver down his spinal relays.

Prowl answered by reaching to pull the black and white visored beauty onto his laps. Fingers slowly teased and probed the most intimate and sensitive spots. His lips explored that face he enjoyed seeing both in his dreams and before him now.

"Jazz…my beautiful, Jazz," he murmured, continuing his affections. "It's been far too long since I've held you and felt your touch…your spark."

"Almost a full vorn. I missed ya too," Jazz commented, leaning into his lover, returning the tender kisses. "So, I we mus' have at least a full cycle togetha this time? Yar takin' yar time teasin' me."

Prowl growled, capturing his mate's lips with deep, probing kiss while rising to his feet with his lover in his arms. Once he reached the destination in mind, he gently laid down onto his lover, tenderly breaking the kiss.

"Two cycles and I fully intend to make the most of every single astroseconds of it making love to my beautifully intoxicating Jazz."

"Then get to it my handsome mech. 'Coz this beauty is in some dire need of yar lovin'."

"As you wish."

**The End.**


	14. Day Fourteen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

* * *

**Day 14**: "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

They were stunned. Well stunned was a mild term. Surprised. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe stood still and speechless, staring down in utter disbelief at the motionless form of their superior laying face down in the dirt.

For some unfathomable reason unknown to them, Prowl – the strict, logical, no nonsense, rule abiding mech who lectured the twins for joors at a time every deca-cycle before sending them to the brig – just saved their lives by taking a direct blast from Megatron's fusion cannon. A shot that neither twin would have seen until it was too late because their backs had been turned. They'd spun around in horror when they heard the shot, thinking it was the end until this black and white winged blur had suddenly appeared between them and the blast.

"**PROWL**!"

The desperate primal cry from across the battlefield broke their reverie enough to make them turn and see Jazz sprinting towards them. Many turned in confusion to see what was going on. The Decepticons started retreating quickly, fearing the retribution that would come when the Autobot's realized their SIC had fallen. Ratchet and Wheeljack chased after Jazz once it set it that something was horribly wrong. Knowing Jazz would never react such a way unless something terrible happened to Prowl, Optimus followed as well, issuing orders for Ironhide to take command of the post battle duties.

Jazz reached Prowl first, sliding to a stop on his knees. Then he gently lifted his lover up into his arms, an expression of horror spread across his faceplates when he carefully turned Prowl over in his arms.

The twins gasped.

The SIC's chest had a gaping hole in it. His spark chamber was exposed and crackling. Energon flowed profusely while electrical lines sparked in succession.

"NO! DON'T GO! STAY WITH ME!" Jazz wept rocking back and forth.

"Slag! Jazz set him down…hurry!" Ratchet ordered, falling to his knees and started working on Prowl's injuries. "Jack, get a transfusion line going now! We need energon and energy!"

Prowl's body started convulsing making Jazz's tears flow even faster.

"Hold him steady!" Ratchet snapped, both hands diving quickly into Prowl's chassis. "Jazz, keep him here!"

Optimus, who'd just arrived didn't need to be told twice about what was going on. He firmly grabbed Prowl's legs. Jazz snapped out of his grief stricken state just enough and moved to hold Prowl's shoulder's down, while pressing his forehead against Prowl's and praying to Primus. The twins, still standing motionless, could hear Jazz's desperate pleas to Primus to not take Prowl. But what shocked them again were Jazz's words of love and affection and Ratchet's words to Jazz suddenly made sense - Prowl and Jazz were bonded.

"Everyone clear!" Ratchet ordered, his hands hovering directly over Prowl's spark chamber.

The electrical discharge jolted Prowl's form. The twins flinched and their tanks churned from the smell of ozone mixed with burning energon and soft protoformed skin.

"Again!"

And again the twins flinched.

"If he dies, I'm goin' to dismantle the both of ya!" Jazz growled, his voice full of so much venom that Sunny and Sides took a couple of steps back.

"AGAIN!"

"**Ya stupid fraggers! Why couldn't follow yar orders**!" Jazz screamed, grabbing his chest, heavy tears streaming down his faceplates.

"I've got an energy pulse!" Ratchet announced and continued working on Prowl. "It's faint and erratic but I believe I can stabilize him."

For the first time the twins noticed the large gathering of Autobots as the surprised comments of Prowl and Jazz being bonded as well as the condemning murmurs penetrated their audio receptors. They turned around and saw the accusations in the others' optics. Sunny and Sides wanted to disappear because they knew they'd been wrong, that they didn't follow Prowl's orders.

It wasn't anything new. They'd done it on several occasions without heavy repercussions. Only this time…

"Ratchet," Optimus' baritone rang out softly so full of worry.

"He's stable but not out of danger," Ratchet answered without looking up. When the CMO did look up he locked his optics intently on Prime's. "I need Jazz to stay close, to anchor Prowl here."

"I understand," Prime nodded.

Ratchet nodded, rising to his feet and then transformed into his vehicle mode.

"Optimus, Jack, load him and be gentle. Jazz, stick to my aft, I need you close," Ratchet ordered.

In less than a klick Prowl was loaded and Ratchet's sirens blared as he drove away with Jazz and Wheeljack close behind.

"Let's roll out and return to base everyone," Optimus ordered while standing before the twins.

Both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe refused to meet their leader's gaze. Nor did they look around as the other Autobots transformed and sped back to the Ark. They knew they'd made a big mistake and in doing so probably upset their Prime.

"Want me to escort these two to the brig, Optimus?" Ironhide asked.

"No."

"But they should be punished!"

"I never said they wouldn't be," Optimus countered calmly. "Move out, Ironhide."

"As you wish, Sir," Ironhide said and then growled at the twins making them jump.

"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe…follow me," Prime firmly said as he transformed.

Knowing they were in deep slag, the twins followed as commanded.

'_What do you think will happen to us_?' Sunny asked Sides over their bond.

'_Dishonorable discharge_? _I don't know_.'

'_We really fragged up bad. I never saw Jazz like that before even when he was angry._'

'_I agree. Even though he was under the influence of spark trauma, he meant what he said. It's something I would have said if someone was responsible for you laying there, dying_._ Frag, I didn't even know they were bonded!_'

'_No one knew!_'

'_What do we do?_'

'_Pray that Prowl will be ok._'

After that they traveled silently with their Prime, praying to Primus. When the big red and blue mech transformed outside the Ark's entrance they followed suit. From there they followed Optimus through the Ark and into his office where he instructed them both to sit down.

"So, the two of you have put me in quite the predicament," Prime rumbled, learning back in his chair. "Because of your blatant disregard to follow orders the Autobots may be losing two of its most valuable officers and I might lose two of my closest friends. I'm sure you are well aware of what happens when one mate of a bonded couple dies."

"Yes, Sir. The surviving mate will most likely shut down or self terminate from despair," Sunstreaker offered softly.

"Indeed. However, if Prowl survives, he and Jazz are now even bigger targets than before because I'm sure the entire Decepticon Army as well as the Autobot Army now know that Prowl and Jazz are bonded. A secret the pair have managed to keep since they joined our ranks. Only Ratchet and myself knew."

"What are you going to do to us, Sir?" Sideswipe asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Prime sighed, staring intently at both of them. "Neither of you even understand why Prowl did what he did, do you?"

"We _**are**_ baffled by what he did, Sir," Sunny admitted.

"Of all the mechs under my command, Prowl is probably the most devoted to the Autobot cause. Do you know what he was before the war?"

"We heard he was an Enforcer."

"Are you aware of the Enforcer's oath?"

"To serve and protect, Sir?" Side's timidly asked.

"Basically. Enforcers are a rare breed. Their faith and devotion to ensure justice is properly defended in this world is unwavering. It's why the majority of the Enforcers joined the Autobot ranks. Those few that didn't were either killed by Megatron before they could join our ranks or fled Cybertron with their and other Enforcers' families."

"Their values and believes helped to solidify and strengthen the Autobot Army as a whole. To serve and protect means so much more to them now than it ever did before. But do not think they did so because of obligation or orders. The comradeship between Enforcers had always been unwavering; they were essential a large family with the devotion they have for one another. They were willing to do whatever was necessary for their brethren be it helping to raise an orphaned sparkling because its Enforcer creator was killed in the line of duty or even lay their life on the line for their brethren or victim they were protecting."

"Prowl was one of the top Enforcers to have joined the Autobots. His courage, valor, and commitment inspired others, enabled him to rise quickly through the ranks. He always did more than what was asked of him. And once he made SIC and CTO he realized his full potential and thrived. He was in a position to protect so many more Autobots. He took it and still does take it personally whenever we lose one of our own."

"_**Every**_ Autobot was important to him. _**Every single one**_, including the two of you. You should know several of us thought you both were too great a because of your recklessness. You were going to be reassigned. It was Prowl who fought to keep you, saying we just needed to have patience, that you both would eventually learn your place. He took responsibility for both of you because he would never give up on one of our own. It went against everything he believed in."

"Greater love hath no mech than this, that a mech lay down his life for his friends," Sunny said, the full impact of what Optimus was talking about finally settling in his processor. Optimus raised an optic ridge making Sunny smile. "I heard Jazz say that once. At the time I thought it was sentimental slag. But he was talking about Prowl, wasn't he, Sir?"

"Probably," Optimus chuckled. "Prowl's devotion to the Autobots was what initially attracted Jazz to the mech."

"Sir, I speak for both of us when I say we understand now. We won't ever disobey orders ever again," Sideswipe sincerely said.

"We are fully prepared to accept whatever disciplinary action you deem appropriate as well, Sir," Sunny added. "But before you punish us, may we wait and see how it turns out for Prowl. We _**are**_ really worried about him. We honestly didn't intend for him to get hurt like that."

"And in light of what you told us…we owe it to him to be there."

"Very well. You may accompany me to the medical bay."

"Thank you, Sir," the brothers said in unison.

The wait ended up being just over sixteen joors. Several waiting had to leave because of duty or were in desperate need of recharge. The twins didn't move from where they were standing just outside the waiting room. Not until an exhausted Ratchet emerged informing everyone that Prowl was going to be ok did they even dare budge.

However, the CMO's angry optics kept the twins in their place before he disappeared back into the medical bay with Prime in tow. They wilted in their peds, guilt for what they'd done still rocking their core while at the same time they were grateful Prowl was going to be ok.

But the still twins didn't move. A moment after the medical bay doors locked shut, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe now understood why Prime ordered them to stand there. This was part of their punishment. And they took it. Every harsh word. Every venomous or disappointed look cast their way.

A joor later when the medical bay doors opened again, their Prime exited.

"You're both dismissed and will be confined to quarters for the remainder of the day. You will report to me first thing in the morning for disciplinary action."

"Understood, Sir," they saluted.

"But first…" Prime started and moved aside to reveal that Jazz had followed his Prime out.

The saboteur looked like he'd been chewed and spit out by Unicron himself. His white armor dulled. His black armor scuffed up. Even his visor was dimmed and his shoulders sagged.

"Come wit' me. He wants to talk to ya both," Jazz mumbled, tiredly rubbing his face.

Optimus nodded for them to follow the small mech who'd gone back into the medical bay. They quickly did so and nearly got steamed over by an irate medic.

"Why the frag do I even bother?" Ratchet roared as he marched into his office and slammed the door shut.

"Don't mind Ratch, he's just tired," Wheeljack smiled. "Call me if Prowl needs anything for the pain."

"Will do. Thanks, 'Jack," Jazz smiled, leading the nervous twins into one of the large private rooms in the medical bay. Prowl lay there neatly covered and hooked up to several monitors. Jazz sat down the chair that was meant for him right beside Prowl's berth and gently took hold of Prowl's white hand in one black hand while his other hand affectionately caressed Prowl's cheek. "Prowl, babe."

Prowl's optics flickered several times before they stayed online. He groggily looked at Jazz and smiled fondly at his mate. The twins shifted nervously, feeling as if they were intruding on a very private moment between two mechs who were obviously very much in love.

"S'ok guys. Come closer," Jazz smiled warmly adjusting the thermal blanket over Prowl's chest. "He's still pretty drugged up but stubbornly refuses to go inta a deep recharge 'til he talks to ya. It's why Ratch was a li'l slagged off a moment ago."

"We don't want to cause any more trouble," Sideswipe said, him and his brother both unable to look Prowl in the optics.

"Ya won't get any argument from me. But Prowler's stubborn. He gets his way, one way or another," Jazz smirked.

"Look at me," Prowl weakly ordered. It took a long moment before the twins gathered their courage. "At last, you understand."

"Yes, Sir. We do," Sunstreaker said. "You've our word that we will follow your orders to the letter from now on."

"We also want to apologize, Sir," Sideswipe added. "We never meant any harm."

"You are both very young. The young do not always do as their told and often have a knack for finding trouble even if they don't go looking for it," Prowl smiled. "I know. I used to be young and reckless. I too learned a few of life's lessons the hard way. If it'd not been for one mech having the patience to guide me I wouldn't be the mech I am this cycle."

"We're forever grateful for your patience and guidance, Sir," Sideswipe said, bowing his head slightly.

"We hope you will continue to guide us, Sir," Sunstreaker said, hope filling his young optics.

"Prowl. You can call me Prowl when we're off duty. The Enforcer in me still hasn't gotten used to being called 'Sir' by my friends."

Both Sunny and Sides were visibly stunned, making Prowl chuckled softly.

"Thank you, Sir…I mean Prowl, my brother and I are honored," Sunny said.

"You're welco…," Prowl mumbled as his optics flickered off.

"Is he ok?" Sides asked.

"Meds finally kicked in," Jazz smiled fondly, caressing Prowl's face. Jazz kissed his mate's forehead tenderly before turning and facing the twins. "'bout what I said out there...I didn't mean it. I got scared. Understand that Prowl means everything to me."

"No need to apologize," Sides smiled.

"Neither of you will ever be in that position again if my brother and I have anything to do with it," Sunny added.

"Just don't get killed doin' it. Prowler's kinda attached to ya two. Says yar pranks are good for moral."

"So why does he put us in the brig when we pull a prank?" Sideswipe asked.

"That's _**our**_ sacrifice for the others," Sunny chuckled, shaking his head.

"_**Oh**_," Sideswipe said, understanding.

**The End.**


	15. Day Sixteen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **I'm not sure if this fits the prompt or not. It was what my muse came up with and I just rolled with it.

"words" denotes normal talk; 'words' denotes bond talk; "_words_" denotes comlink talk

* * *

**Day 16: **"We've worn the cloak of secret lives, we've seen the truth, magic that we send…"

Over the past several dozen vorns Megatron had been closely watching his two most trustworthy and loyal friends. Barricade and Ricochet had been his friends since before the war. They were the two that encouraged him to build an army. They even came up with the name Decepticons.

For the most part, Barricade and Ricochet performed well beyond the call of duty. They were ruthless, cunning, and merciless. Any Autobot in their path didn't stand a chance. Nor did any Decepticon who dared question their Lord Megatron or even dare say anything negative about Barricade and Ricochet's barbaric ways on the battlefield or their audacity for PDAs off the battlefield.

The duo didn't give a frag what anyone thought of them.

Where one went the other was close behind. They often went on missions together. When refueling the pair were always in the recreation room together going over mission plans. If one was injured the other was always in the medical bay. They were inseparable and Megatron couldn't care less as long as they did their job.

But nearly a century ago a change happened after one particularly brutal battle where casualties were high on both sides.

The pair bonded.

The very act shocked and enraged Megatron. He'd beaten both until neither could walk and had to spend a full deca-cycle in the medical bay to recover from their beatings. To their credit they stood there and took it and then endured the long rehabilitation without complaint.

Megatron will admit it now that perhaps that was the best thing. Because ever since they bonded the couple became even more ruthless, never leaving each other's side on the battlefield. They're efficiency in finding any traitors in his Decepticon army was unmatched. Their interrogation techniques were so vicious and well known that any Decepticon that might have been contemplating betraying their Lord, didn't.

However, now this new development will impede them, make them weak. Megatron will not tolerate his two best Decepticons to be weakened. If he showed favoritism he himself would be considered weak then he'd lose control. He was never going to relinquish his power. Never. So, the sooner he did something about this _**situation**_ the better.

"Barricade, come. I wish to speak to you."

"As you wish my Lord.," Barricade replied, blowing his head submissively and then made his way over to the Decepticon Leader.

"Is there something you wish to discuss with me?" Megatron asked.

The menacing black and white mech seemed slightly perplexed by Megatron's question. The Lord did not hesitate to unleash his anger. Barricade went hard to the floor, energon leaking from his mouth.

"Did you not think I would find out?" Metatron roared, slamming a heavy ped down onto one of Barricade's doorwings. The mech whimpered quietly despite the intensity of the pain. Nor did he retaliate when he was yanked up to his peds by his neck. "**Did you not think I would find out?**"

"I'm sorry my Lord. If I'd known you'd be this upset about it I would have told you sooner!"

"You are to terminate the abomination growing within your bondmate immediately. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," Barricade responded weakly, averting his gaze. "Ricochet will require time to recover."

"You both have one cycle to mourn the loss of your sparkling and you will be confined to quarters," Megatron snarled. "I will not tolerate weakness. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, my Lord."

Megatron watched his subordinate march away and signaled for Soundwave to approach.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Have Barricade and Ricochet watched."

"As you wish, my Lord."

_**Barricade and Ricochet's quarters…**_

Ricochet paced in his shared quarters with Barricade awaiting his bondmate's arrival. He could feel something was wrong. He'd never felt such anguish from his love in all their time bonded. And so he didn't hesitate to rush to his lover's side when he entered their quarters.

"Primus, yar wing! What happened?"

"Megatron got angry," Barricade answered unable to meet his bonded's optics.

"'Cade, what's wrong?"

"Ric…I'm so sorry. Megatron wants the sparkling terminated."

Ricochet staggered back a step, clutching his chest.

"We both knew there was a possibility of this happening," Barricade sighed, taking Ricochet into his arms.

"When's it ta be done?"

"He wants me to take care of it myself. As soon as possible. We're to be given a single cycle of mourning."

"Then it's time," Ricochet relented, shuttering his optics behind his red tinted visor.

"I agree," Barricade murmured capturing Ricochet's lips in a heated kiss. 'We use the bond to communicate from now on. No doubt we're being watched.'

'Got that right. One of Soundwave's drones are listenin' outside the door. I can hear 'em.'

'Time for phase one of our plan then. I'll secure the weapons.'

'An' I'll start the recordin' an' secure the energon. How long do ya think we have 'fore they figure we've gone?'

'Three joors at most.'

'Not much time. Good thing we're fast.'

'Take a ration now. You'll wear down faster if you don't because of the sparkling.'

'I did the moment I felt somethin' was wrong from ya.'

'Primus, I love you so much.'

'Love ya too.'

_**The next cycle, just outside Iacon…**_

One of Hound's proximity sensor alarms sounded alerting the scout that two Decepticons were coming up an old service road reserved for Prime only. No bot knew it existed except for a handful of mechs, Hound being one of them.

"What is it Hound?" Bumblebee asked worriedly.

"Two 'Cons closing in on our location," Hound replied focusing his binocular vision on the road. He spotted two mechs one black and white, the other white and black. "Frag, we need back up. It's Barricade and Ricochet!"

Bumblebee looked for himself out of curiosity. He'd only heard about these particular 'Cons from the other Autobots.

"Hound, something's wrong," Bumblebee observed. "They're injured…"

"Incoming! One Seeker!" Hound shouted and immediately fired his rockets. "Starscream that fragger."

Bumblebee continued to watch the ground 'Cons as they dodged Starscream's null ray. Hound continued to firing at Starscream who continued to fire at Barricade and Ricochet. One final blast knocked both mechs into the air hurtling them into through the side of a building. Hound's continual firing didn't allow Starscream a chance to investigate and true to his character fled the scene.

"Why was Starscream firing at them?" Bumblebee asked. "They're 'Cons."

"I have no idea," Hound said but felt something was off. "Frag. This goes against my better judgment. Get Ratchet out here and Ironhide with a small squad of mechs."

"Yes, Sir."

Confident they beginner scout would do as he was order, Hound transformed and sped off to where the two 'Cons landed. Once there he used all his sensors to locate the two energy signatures. Not that he needed them. He could hear them clear as a bell.

Again, he had the sense that something was totally off. 'Cons were sneaky fraggers and these two were the sneakiest and deadliest on record. Still, weapons drawn, Hound proceeded with caution - better to be safe, than dead.

"Frag…'Cade…its hurts!"

"Ric, I know…you're bleeding out too much energy."

"The sparklins' not gonna make it!"

"Yes, he will!" Barricade promised. "Open your chest, expose your port."

"'Cade! I'm losin' 'im!"

"You won't! I promise you. I refuse to allow you or our sparkling to perish. Not when we're so close. My love, please. Expose your port."

Hound found them just as Barricade's chest was transformed revealing his interface port. Red optics met blue as the cable extended.

"Hound, I beg you not to harms us," Barricade requested calmly. "Get Ratchet, tell him Ric is bleeding energy from his spark chamber endangering the tiny spark of our child. I'm going to overload him to feed the little spark the necessary energy to survive until help arrives. And one last thing…tell Optimus and only Optimus that we've come home."

With that said, Barricade thrust his cable into Ricochet's port. Hound could see the energy surge crackling down the cable at lightening speed. Ricochet's writhed and moaned violently from the forced overload until he offlined. The backlash ripped through Barricade's systems causing him to cry out in pleasure and pain before he offlined and fell over his mate.

Even though he was confused by the last thing Barricade told him Hound still did the sensible thing and informed Ratchet about what'd just happened. The CMO arrived in one of the foulest moods ever, cursing right and left. He even tossed a wrench at Wheeljack who was merely helping.

"Fragging 'Cons. So typical of them to make a mess and expect us to clean it up," Ironhide grumbled. "Let them die Ratchet. They deserve to."

"That's not your call to make," Hound pointed out.

"I'm not going to allow an innocent life to perish no matter who its creators are!" Ratchet snapped, glaring at Ironhide.

"Ratchet, report," a familiar deep voice rumbled, startling everyone.

"Optimus, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe!" Ironhide exclaimed.

"I was in the command center when Bumblebee's call came in. I had to come down here."

"They were attacked by one of their own, Sir," Hound volunteered. "I shot at Starscream until he fled. But the damage had already been done."

"Did they say anything to you?"

"Yes, Sir but…"

"But what soldier?" Ironhide snapped.

"I was instructed to give the message only to Optimus, Sir."

"_What was it?_" Prime's voice instantly asked over a private comlink with Hound.

"_Barricade said…they've come home._"

"Thank you Hound," Optimus spoke softly. "Ironhide, get everyone back inside the gates. Allow Smokescreen and only Smokescreen access. He has authorization."

"Optimus…"

"That's an order!"

"As you wish."

"Hound, you may stay. Ratchet…Wheeljack, I'm going to transmit an access code. It's going to unlock an encrypted memory buried deep within your processors. Once unlocked, you'll understand what to do. Hound what I'm about to tell you is to never leave here. Is that understood?"

Hound nodded confused about what was going on but listened intently while Ratchet and Wheeljack continued working diligently on the 'Cons.

"About a hundred and forty vorns ago two Decepticons assassins infiltrated the base with the intention of killing me. As you can see they did not succeed. Like many Decepticons they were over confident. They did not count on their sibling bonds to give them away. Two of my closest friends arrived just in time to warn me. Unfortunately there wasn't time for them to explain. They killed the assassins…their own brothers."

"Sir, you wanted to see m…Primus," Smokescreen gasped, immediately falling to his knees near Barricade. "Prowl!"

Hound blinked in surprise. Prowl? He hadn't heard that name in a long time!

"Barricade was Prowl's twin brother," Optimus explained. "And Ricochet was Jazz's twin brother. With the help of Smokescreen, Ratchet and Wheeljack we hid the bodies. Prowl came up with a plan to take advantage of the situation. It was a way inside the Decepticons, deeper and higher up the chain of command than we could ever possibly get before. As a tactician's way of thinking, it was a way to keep us one step ahead of the 'Cons."

"That's when we heard the alarms and were told Prowl and Jazz died saving your life but the 'Cons got away," Hound stated. "But they've come back."

"So it would seem. The only question I have is…why?"

"Well, Prowl and Jazz left as Barricade and Ricochet, two of the most ruthless Decepticons ever," Ratchet said, wiping his hands as he rose to his feet. "They came back as a bonded couple with a sparkling."

"Sparkling!" Optimus exclaimed. "And bonded?"

"Yes, we need you to transform so we can transport them to the medical facility," Ratchet said. "Wheeljack will perform the cosmetic surgery on Prowl and restore his true form. I will do the same for Jazz…after I deliver his sparkling. But we must hurry."

_**The next cycle, Autobot Base, medical bay Iacon…**_

Prowl smiled down at the beautiful sparkling mech he and Jazz had created together. He couldn't thank Primus enough for the result of the past events, especially this precious gift in his arm. So long of having no faith in any mechanism around him, save one, made it difficult for him to do what he did to save his sparkling. He had been terrified that when he'd wake he'd find both Jazz and his son dead.

"Hey little brother, how are you doing?" Smokescreen asked quietly after he entered the private room.

"Tired but happy," Prowl smiled softly, never taking his optics off the recharging mechlet in his arms.

"I see he has many of your physical features."

"For which Jazz is grateful for," Prowl whispered.

"Ya don't have ta whisper. I'm awake," Jazz mumbled, shifting slightly on the berth. "How's li'l Blue doin?"

"He ate well and is recharging now," Prowl sighed, moving slowly and ever so gently placing the sparking in Jazz's arms.

"How are you doing, Jazz?" Smokescreen asked, standing beside his brother.

"I ache all over but Ratchet says that's normal for the traumatic berthin' I had. I'll heal up nicely in another few cycles."

"Good. That's good."

"Why are you here, Smokey?" Prowl asked, narrowing his blue optics slightly. "You're never one for making social calls to the medical bay."

"What? Can't a guy come in and see his brother and nephew?" Smokey countered only to receive a poignant look from Prowl. "Ok, Optimus wanted answers and figured you'd both be more relaxed telling me instead of him. I mean…you're bonded. Neither us expected that to happen. Plus, we never expected you both to be gone so long."

"The role playin' wasn't easy for us. Keepin' what happened to us a secret from our friends was hard enough as it was," Jazz admitted. "At first we were terrified Megatron wouldn't believe our performances. Then we started believin' them an' started forgettin' who we really were. It was most difficult for Prowl."

"I started to lose my processor. The truth of this war became skewed. I was falling into the pit of no return and didn't care," Prowl spoke softly barely above a whisper. "It got really bad after one battle. The killings….they tore me apart on the inside. I took it out on a couple of Decepticons out of spite. Jazz did the only thing he could think of to anchor me. We'd already been interfacing with each other as 'Cade and Ric were rather prolific at it and then it became a need, a means to cope with the emotional pain. Eventually it just wasn't enough. I needed more. I needed stability."

"As did I," Jazz continued. "I couldn't bear ta see ma best friend slowly go insane when I knew I could help him. An' so after I over loaded 'im I forced open his spark chamber an' merged our sparks. At first he was angry wit' me. We got into several fights, vicious physical fights too. But we soon realized it was for the best. We learned to cope together an' in doin' so…fell in love. We'd been plannin' on escapin' from the 'Cons for some ten vorns. But it's difficult when Megatron an' his minions watch ya like turbo-hawks."

"It requires a bit of patience," Prowl joked. "However, everything changed when we found out Jazz was with spark. We didn't plan on that happening. It was a rare moment where we could be totally alone and be free to be ourselves when we made love and spark merged."

"That night felt magical," Jazz smiled dreamily, making Prowl blush slightly. "I even said so at the time."

"Anyway," Prowl continued. "When we learned of the spark Jazz was carrying…I don't know…it's hard to explain. It was as if it was meant to be. Our son gave us a hope we'd never thought to have. It forced me to come up with a new plan that we could implement at a moment's notice. And when Megatron ordered me to kill my son…well, you know what happened there. I'm grateful we all made it back alive."

"No more lies about who we are," Jazz yawning. "No more lying to our friends."

Prowl climbed onto the berth, snuggling with Jazz and their recharging son, Bluetreak, and smiled, "We begin a new and brighter chapter of our lives."

"New chapter yes, brighter? You might not think so once you've met some of the new mechs on base," Smokescreen smirked.

"Smokey…please…we still have another deca-cycle before we return to active duty," Prowl grumbled, rubbing a tired hand across his face.

"Yeah, the less he knows the betta or else he'll start workin'. Me an' Blue are not goin' to like that," Jazz griped.

"I know. I know," Smokey laughed. "Not that you need to be told, but Prime wanted me to tell you both that you get your old jobs back when you return to duty. Honestly little brother, I'm so happy to hand you back your job! I could never fill your peds. How the frag did you ever get through all those datapads and then have them to Prime on time?"

"Necessity," Prowl replied dryly.

"Yeah, well, I think Prime will be exceedingly happy to have his old SIC and TIC back. As will many of the Autobots. And, I'm grateful to have you back brother. I missed you."

"Thanks, it's good to be back," Prowl smiled. "I missed you too, Smokey. Jazz missed you too."

"Ya still owe me 100 credits for our last game, Smokey."

"I thought it was fifty?"

"A hundred."

"Fine, we still play in my quarters, same nights. Double or nothing?"

"Primus you two are incorrigible!" Prowl exclaimed.

"Yar on, Smokey."

"Smokescreen…"

"Yes, baby brother?"

"Out, before you corrupt my son."

"Ok. I'm going. Later mechs!" Smokescreen laughed as he headed out.

"Finally, some piece an' quiet," Jazz sighed, snuggling against Prowl.

Prowl made a noise in agreement, holding his sparkmate and sparkling close.

"Ok, I can feel ya contemplating. Please tell me it's nothin' to do wit' work."

"Yes…and no," Prowl smiled, kissing Jazz's cheek. "I was thinking that we need our offices as one now and a small recharge berth for Blue in there. I don't want to miss out on his growth and development."

"I'll work on sparklin' sitters," Jazz remarked getting a puzzled look from Prowl. "Please mech, just coz we have a sparkling now doesn't mean I'm givin' up one of my favorite past times with ya!"

"Let's just keep the interfacing behind closed doors this time. We don't want to shock our fellow Autobots with how limber you really are!"

"Darn. Not even…"

"Jazz, no. I believe Optimus would have the same reaction as Megatron did when he caught us interfacing on his desk."

"Oh, I don't know," Jazz snorted, barely able to contain his glee over their bond. "Optimus doesn't have a fusion canon."

"But he has better aim," Prowl pointed out dryly, trying desperately not to laugh.

"How many holes did Megs blast in his office walls before we finally overloaded?" Jazz giggled.

"Five," Prowl replied. "Seven if you count the one in the ceiling and the one that obliterated his chair."

"Hmm, good thing we'd finished usin' it before he showed up," Jazz said and Prowl finally lost it.

"That's my Jazz."

"It's good to just be Jazz again."

"I know what you mean," Prowl mumbled, kissing Jazz. "No more secrets lives. No more lying to our friends. You and I can just be ourselves. Prowl and Jazz…forever."

**The End.**


	16. Day Fifteen and Seventeen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** I'm aware of several fics that use Cybertronian Heat Cycle as a way to get Prowl and Jazz together. This fic is PG so I'll let you figure out what I mean by _**together**_! Lol. Anyways, I went out of my way to try and NOT do the obvious with a few of the prompts. Prompt 15 was one of them. So instead of cyber porn, I give you cyber fluff and adorableness!

"words" denote normal talk, 'words' denote bond talk

* * *

**Day 15 & 17**: Cybertronian Heat Cycle & The birth (or start) of something special

Of all cycles Sonata had promised to take her two sons to the titanium grained beaches of Rust Sea, this cycle had to be the hottest during the first ten of the Cybertronian Heat Cycles in Polyhex. Thankfully her sons, her pride and joy, were doing everything she asked of them that morning and more. She was even surprised they'd been so quiet on the transport.

It was so rare for them to be quiet at all when Downshift was on duty at the Precinct. Not that they were quiet when their father was home. One of her three mechs were always singing a tune or rambling excitedly about their day. Not that Sonata would complain. She loved the sound of her mechs whenever they sang, especially her sparkmate's deep voice.

Of course, the silence during the trip couldn't last long as her youngest little mech, Jazz, at four vorns old and a mini-replica of his father right down to the stubby sensitive sensory horns on his black helm couldn't contain himself any longer. Honestly, she was even amazed that he'd been able to sit still during most of the transit ride as her little Jazz was always in motion unless he was recharging.

"Are we there yet, mama?" he sweetly asked.

"Not yet, sweet spark," Sonata smiled, carefully wiping a sticky smudge from Jazz's blue tinted visor. He'd only been wearing it a couple of deca-cycles now and would for the rest of his life in order for him to see. And typical youngling always got sticky fingerprints on everything. "Another few klicks."

"Yippy!" Jazz clapped excitedly bouncing up and down on his tiny black aft.

"Settle down, li'l bro," Ricochet ordered, preventing Jazz's from clapping.

"No, I don't have ta listen to ya! Yar not mama or papa!" Jazz spat, sticking his glossa out at his older brother.

Ricochet was a full eleven vorns older than Jazz with markings and features that resembled Sonata, save his faceplates that looked so much like his father's. And his attitude was every bit like his father as well which at times made him a little ornery with Jazz.

"But I am older than ya. Ya need ta respect me."

"Mama, what's re…respect mean?"

"It means ya have ta listen to me."

"I didn't ask ya Ric!"

"Be nice to each other mechs," Sonata chastised. "You have each other's love. That's more than enough. And Ric you know better than to say things like that to Jazz."

"Sorry mama."

"I see it mama!" Jazz squealed jumping up and pointing excitedly out the transport's window receiving a few smiles from the other passengers. "I see it! I see it!"

Sonata pulled Jazz onto her lap, holding him firmly. If she didn't she was positive her hyperactive little mechlet would zip out the door of the transport once it opened. Jazz scared her from time to time because he was like his father…fearless.

"Shudup, squirt. I think we heard ya the first time."

"Ricochet, Downshift or I never once ordered you to quiet it down whenever you were Jazz's age and got over excited. So give your brother the same courtesy you were given."

"Yes, mama."

"Good, now get our stuff, your brother is an arm full," Sonata smiled, kissing one of Jazz's sensory horns on his helm.

The little mech purred leaning into his mother's affections and was temporarily distracted enough so that they made it off the transport without incident. The difference between Ricochet and Jazz's over excitement was that Ric was purely vocal where as Jazz was equally vocal but often had to be physically contained in a small area or held in one of his parent's arms.

Thankfully by some miracle, Sonata and her mechs made it down to the beach without incident and found a spot that wasn't so crowded and near the oil line. Then she made the mistake of setting Jazz down on his peds so she could set down a towel to sit on. Ever the dutiful big brother, Ricochet chased after his little brother.

"Jazz!"

"I'll keep ma optics on 'im!" Ricochet shouted over his shoulder as he chased Jazz into the cool rust colored oil sea.

Sonata relaxed and settled down, contently watching as Jazz swam happily trying to elude his brother's grasp and Ricochet in turn allowed his little brother to escape from time to time. Jazz's squeals and Ricochet's laughs were music to her audio receptors and made her spark pulse contently.

She sighed, thinking that the only thing missing was Downshift to make this moment more perfect.

_**Meanwhile, else where not too far away…**_

Pantera continued to hold her youngest son in her arms. Prowl had fallen into recharge during the ride over which didn't surprise her. He was far too shy and instead of acknowledging the strangers on the transport when they greeted him he went into recharge to avoid them.

It was partly her fault her youngest sparked was that way. His arrival into the world had been premature and he was sickly for the first few orns of his life. As a result Pantera was overly protective of little Prowl afraid any bot might give him a virus. Barricade never attempted to force her to change, knowing he might get reformatted into something unpleasant. Besides, he was just as fearful for his son's well being. As a result, Prowl was clingy with his mother and extremely shy around strangers.

Now that Prowl had just turned four, Pantera knew she had to break him of his shyness before he started schooling next vorn. So during the past few deca-cycles she'd been taking him to small populated public areas where there'd be a variety of mechanisms including sparklings or younglings. For Prowl's sense of security, she always brought Bluestreak and Smokescreen since he was most comfortable around family. Bluestreak had a knack for distracting Prowl enough and get him to open up a little.

So this cycle's outing was just another session for Prowl but also a reward for Smokescreen and Bluestreak for all the work they did helping with the packing and unpacking of the family's possessions for the move from Praxus to Polyhex.

Of course Pantera didn't expect this cycle to be the hottest on record!

"Will father being joining us later?" Bluestreak asked as they exited the transport.

"'Cade's not sure how long he'll be. He's supposed to meet his new partner, the Chief, and go on some tour. But he promised he would try, Blue."

"Ok," Blue happily smiled.

Pantera grinned at her mechlet's happiness. Bluestreak was an optimist to a fault and could talk the audio receptors off one of any of the Crystal Statues in Praxus' Helix Gardens. And at ten vorns old he showed no signs of changing his demeanor.

"Mother, can Blue and I go ahead?" Smokescreen asked.

"Yeah, mom can we? We'll pick you and Prowl a nice spot on the beach!" Blue added.

"Sure, but keep an optic on your brother, Smokey. You know how Blue has a tendency to talk to strangers."

"Ok, mother," Smoke smiled. "Come on Blue, I'll race you!"

"Ok but you have to let me win!"

"As if!"

Pantera chuckled watching her two eldest sons' enthusiasm, something they inherited from her. Smokey was fifteen vorns and a responsible mech so she had no worries and knew he'd take care of Blue. He even had the patience to sparksit Prowl a couple of times.

Not that Prowl was a difficult sparkling. He was quiet and calm when comfortable. He loved to play with puzzles for joors at a time. And was funny when he got frustrated with a puzzle because he had this adorable brooding look on his faceplates that reminded Pantera of her spark mate, Barricade.

"See mom! We got a good spot for Prowl! Not too crowded and there's a sparkling nearby," Bluestreak beamed proudly, fluttering his winglets.

"You did good Blue," she said, looking around. The beach wasn't too crowded in the spot Blue picked. Most everyone was near an energon bar in the middle. The farther away from the middle the more spread out mechanisms were. The nearest mechanism was a white femme with blue highlights was nearby who was intently watching two youngling mechs playing. "Go on and play with your brother."

"Ready or not here I come, Smokey!" Blue cheered loudly racing into sea and then proceeded to jump on Smokescreen's back sending them both under the oil. They both popped back up laughing and splashing at each other.

"Prowl, sweetspark, time to wake," she murmured, giving him a gentle shake. Her little black and white mechlet yawned, rubbing his optics. "Look, we're at the beach."

"What's all that brown stuff mommy?" he asked with a sigh, content in leaning against her chest.

"That's the Rust Sea."

Prowl gasped and trembled, gripping tightly to his mother's arm.

"Oh, it's not going to hurt you," she cooed, hugging him close.

"But Smokey told me there were turbo sharks in the oil that would gobble me up and eat me."

"Smokey was joking and will be grounded for telling such things to you. I promise you there are no turbo sharks. Ok?"

"Ok," he said but looked unconvinced.

"Here, your father got these for you so you can build shapes with the grains. Want to try them out?"

Prowl nodded with a small smile.

"You're going to need some oil for the grains so use the bucket to get your oil."

Prowl held bucket tight in one hand and a look of dread fell across his faceplates and his tiny winglets trembled.

"There are _**no**_ turbo sharks," she smiled, smoothing a hand over his white helm. "I promise my little Prowl."

"Ok," he swallowed hard as she set him on his little peds. "Go on, you're brothers will help you if you need them. Remember what I told you about being brave?"

"Yes, mommy. I remember," he nodded.

"Off you go then," she said, giving him a gently push to get him moving.

Pantera watched intently feeling a sense of accomplishment as Prowl made it all the way to the gentle lapping waves at the oil's edge, a feat two deca-cycles ago wouldn't have been possible in such a public place. She made a note to take him to more open public places. He seemed to have a tendency to react negatively in more confined public areas.

"Oh Prowl," she chuckled to herself watching as he attempted to get some oil in the bucket. Each time he tried the wave moved out of his reach, so he'd step forward. Then when the wave came back he scampered away. Pantera watched him attempt to get oil a couple more times with the same result before she reminded him over their bond to call for help from his brothers.

_**Out in the sea's shallow oil…**_

"What are those?" Jazz asked pointing at the grey mechlet's back.

"Winglets," the grey mech answered.

"Ya mechs are flyers?" Ricochet asked excitedly.

"No, we're Praxians," the blue and yellow mech answered, flicking his large winglets. Jazz was fascinated by them. He'd never seen anything like them before. "My name's Smokescreen and this is my little brother Bluestreak."

"The name's Ricochet an' this bundle of bolts is my li'l brother Jazz," Ric teased patting Jazz on the head.

"Smokey!"

"Slag," Smokescreen grumbled.

"Who's that?" Jazz asked excitedly. It was someone his size! He'd never seen another mechanism his size so close by before. Oh, he had winglets too!

"That's Prowl, our little brother," Bluestreak grinned. "He's kind of shy."

"Smokey! Blue!" Prowl shouted, standing on his tippy toes.

"Blue, go see what he wants," Smokescreen said.

"Sure."

"Does Blue always smile like that?" Ric asked.

"Yeah, he's always in a good mood. Only time he's not is when he has a system upset," Smokescreen snorted.

"I don't like system upset eitha," Jazz commented, noticing how Prowl wouldn't let the oil touch his peds. "Why don't Prowl come in the oil wit' us?"

"He's scared of turbo sharks," Smokey snickered.

"There's no turbo sharks," Jazz countered.

"But Prowl doesn't know that," Smokey smirked. "You know what, I'll be right back. I can't resist."

Jazz curiously watched as Smokescreen disappeared under the oil's surface.

"Ric, what's Smokey doin'?"

"I think he's gonna play a prank on his brothers," Ric chuckled.

Sure enough, Smokescreen popped up right where Bluestreak was helping Prowl fill his bucket. Prowl screamed and when he turned to run tripped and fell on his face and started crying. Ric erupted with laughter just like Smokescreen and Bluestreak did.

Jazz frowned. He didn't think it was funny to see Prowl screaming and crying. Even mama didn't think it was funny as she was rushing to see if Prowl was ok along with an all white femme with red highlights that must have been Prowl's mother. Jazz hurried over. He wanted to help too.

"Is he ok, mama?" Jazz asked worriedly as he was lifted up.

"He's going to be ok, Jazz."

"Prowl, I'm sorry," Smokescreen apologized looking guilty for making his brother cry.

Prowl whined, shrugging Smokey's hand off his shoulder, obviously not wanting to be touched.

"I didn't mean to upset you that bad, little brother"

"Don't touch me Smokey you afthead!" Prowl screamed.

"Primus Prowl, I do apologize for that outburst," Prowl's mother nervously smiled.

"S'ok. Ma papa says it all the time," Jazz smiled.

"Jazz!" mother exclaimed.

"It's ok, 'Cade does too," the femme smiled at Jazz's mama.

"My name's Sonata. This little one is Jazz and that's Ricochet but we call him Ric for short."

"Pantera. My eldest who knows better than to tease his brothers is Smokescreen, aka Smokey. My middle mech is Bluestreak but we call him Blue. And this as you now know is Prowl."

"Mother, I'm really sorry. I didn't think he'd react like _**that**_," Smokey said Pantera.

"How did you expect him to react when you already had him terrified?"

"I'm sorry," Smokescreen said, bowing his head.

"You will sit over there for fifteen klicks and think of ways to make it up to your brother."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You know, I have some ointment for the scrape on his cheek," Sonata said. "Ric, go get it please."

"Thank you," Pantera smiled.

"Think nothing of it. I don't leave home without it. Jazz is rather lively and at times gets overly excited. Little scrapes and dents happen often as a result."

"Yeah, I got one this morning' 'coz I tripped fell down. See?" Jazz said, showing his elbow. "But it didn't hurt any."

"You are very brave," Pantera smiled, shifting a silently brooding Prowl to her other arm so she could get a better look at the scrape on his cheek. "Blue, get a G-O-O-D-I-E please."

Jazz made a face when Prowl perked up.

"Goodie, please," Prowl said, holding his hand out.

"Got a smart one there," Sonata laughed.

"Yes he is," Pantera chuckled, shaking her head. "'Cade's been thinking we should get Prowl tested because of all the puzzles he plays with."

Jazz's tank suddenly grumbled loudly! Completely embarrassed he blushed and ducked his head when they laughed.

"Well, that's my cue to feed my mechs," Sonata joked, nuzzled Jazz' helm. "Then they can play. It looked like they were all getting along nicely."

"Yes they were. Perhaps we can get Prowl to come out of his shell."

"They'll do it when they're ready," Sonata smiled. "I was like that until I was ready."

"Here, mama."

"Thanks again, Sonata," Pantera smiled accepting the medical gel from Sonata.

"Think nothing of it. Keep it. I have more. Come on my mechs, time for a snack."

"Why don't we all sit together!" Bluestreak suggested, handing Prowl an energon goodie.

The little black and white mechlet promptly shoved the entire treat in his mouth when the two mothers talked about Blue's idea. Jazz giggled, thinking he'd do the exact same thing too so his brother wouldn't get it. Ric was always taking nibbles off his treats!

Then for the first time Prowl noticed Jazz, tilting his head to one side, curiosity bright in his big round cobalt optics. The visored mechlet grinned excitedly and waved. Prowl just stared at him, chewing on his treat slowly, the gooey liquid energon sweetness from the middle trickled down his chin.

Then Prowl's mother started putting the medical ointment on Prowl's cheek. Holy Primus! The world came to an abrupt end for a few klicks as he cried and started choking on his treat. Pantera panicked for a few moments coz she'd been so busy talking with Sonata that she didn't even notice that Blue had given Prowl the treat. Then of course she felt guilty for making her son cry and choke on his treat!

Somewhere during the mayhem it was decided that they'd all sit together, Prowl got another treat that he shoved whole in his mouth, and Jazz got a treat too, which he did the same thing as Prowl when Ric made a move to grab it from him. Once everyone was settled down, Jazz sat on his mother's lap while they ate together. Ric, Smokey, and Blue were talking about games they liked to play. Jazz's mother and Pantera chatted nonstop. None of that mattered to Jazz. His curiosity kept his optics on Prowl.

The little black and white mech had fallen into recharge shortly after they'd all sat down together. Pantera had carefully laid Prowl on his side because, according to her, it could damage his winglets if he laid on his back for too long.

Those winglets were a fascination to Jazz. He observed, almost in a hypnotic state, on Smokey and Blue how their appendages were always in motion, kind of like him. Except on Prowl, his winglets were always so still unless he was upset then Jazz noticed how they trembled.

Unable to resist any longer, Jazz slowly reached to touch one of Prowl's winglets when he thought no one was paying attention.

"No, no sweetie," Pantera smiled, gently holding Jazz's hand back. "His winglets are more sensitive than most. If you touch them the wrong way it can hurt him." Jazz gasped, pulling his hand back to his chest. "We found that one out the hard way when Prowl was learning to walk and fell on his back. I never heard a sparkling scream in such pain and never wanted to again."

"Poor little thing," Sonata gasped. "I'd be a bit overprotective too if Jazz was like that. I do apologize for my son. He's rather hands on and likes to touch things."

"No apologies," Pantera countered. "Prowl's the same way, just a little more shy about it."

"I think its time these mechs play," Sonata exclaimed, perking up the older mechs.

"Yes it is. Smokescreen, you may go play now too."

"Thanks mother!" he cheered and then chased after Bluestreak and Ric.

"Is Prowl comin'" Jazz asked.

"Perhaps, once he's had his nap," Pantera smiled.

"Oh," Jazz sighed, disappointedly.

"Go play Jazz," Sonata said, kissing his forehead. "Before you know it Prowl will be awake and then you can play with him."

"Ok, mama," he smiled, kissing her back.

Like the good little mech he was, Jazz did as he was told. At first he had fun with the bigger mechs as they played a game he could participate in. Then they swam too far away into the deeper oil where Jazz couldn't follow. He couldn't swim that fast yet and was getting somewhat tired.

However, he cheered up when he turned to head back to the shore and spotted Prowl playing by himself in the titanium grains. As quick as Jazz could he made his way over. Only when he got closer did he slow down. Jazz didn't want to accidentally scare Prowl like Smokey did earlier.

"Whatcha makin?" Jazz asked squatting down next to Prowl who was busy patting the grains down with his small hands.

Prowl looked quizzically at Jazz, tilting his head to one side.

"What?" Jazz asked, wiping his face, wondering if he had energon smeared on it or something.

"What's that on your face?" Prowl asked, pointing at Jazz's optics.

"It's ma visor."

"What's it do?"

"It helps me ta see 'coz ma optics are bad."

"Why are your optics bad? Did you fall and damage them?"

"Na, they just went bad. That's what mama tells me."

"Why do you talk funny?"

"Ya sure ask a lot of questions," Jazz huffed.

"I always do," Prowl answered with a shrug.

"Well, I talk like ma daddy," Jazz smiled proudly, puffing out his chest. "Ya talk funny too."

"I do not!" Prowl gasped, looking mortified. "I'm Praxian. We do not talk funny."

Jazz shrugged, "Neither do I. I'm Polyhexian. Can I ask ya a question now?"

"Ok."

"How come yar mama don't have winglets."

"She's a Praxian femme. They don't have winglets. Only us mechs."

Jazz reached out and then pulled back his hand.

"Can…can I touch one? I'll be gentle."

"Ok, but not the tip," Prowl said, turning his back to Jazz.

Jazz stuck out one finger. Then ever so gently he touched where Prowl's winglet met with his back. The reaction was instant make Jazz jerk his hand away.

Prowl shuddered and giggled, "That tickled!"

Jazz grin brightly so happy he didn't hurt Prowl.

"You want to help me build a fortress?" Prowl asked, smiling.

"Ok! What do ya need me ta do?"

"I can use some more oil."

"I'll get it!" Jazz smiled excitedly grabbing the bucket. Once he has it filled to the rim, he carefully walked back to where Prowl was squatting.

"Wow, you got more than Blue ever got!" Prowl exclaimed.

"Is that good?" Jazz worriedly asked.

"It's perfect!"

"Sweet. Now what can I do?"

"We need to build the walls using your hands like this."

Jazz dove in with his usually enthusiasm, not only getting himself covered in titanium grains but Prowl too. Neither mechlet minded as they continued chatting, laughing and building together.

_**Just up the beach, not to far away…**_

"Hey, this is the same beach Sonata was takin' my li'l mechs to," Downshift exclaimed to his partner as they rolled up to the beach's entrance.

"Wouldn't it be something if our femmes were best friends already?" Barricade joked as they both transformed into their bipedal mode.

The black and white mech couldn't believe the luck he had this cycle which put him in a wonderful mood. He and his partner, Downshift or just Shift, hit it off instantly. They had so much of the important things about life in common - love and devotion to family, loyalty to friends, and a commitment to a job they enjoyed doing.

Then there was the more relaxed atmosphere at the Polyhex Precinct as opposed to strictly by the book Praxus Precinct where Barricade had worked from the beginning of his career. Both had reputations for getting the job done but the Polyhex was less constrictive which made Barricade relieved that he'd made the right decision in bringing his family here.

"Makes no difference. They will be. I just know my Sonata and your Tera are goin' to be like sistas!" Downshift grinned while scanning the crowds. Barricade noticed the mech's blue optics flared brightly and his smile grew when he must have spotted his femme. "Well, she's made a friend already out 'ere. That's ma femme."

Barricade looked to where Downshift was pointing and burst into a hearty laugh.

"Don't tell me!"

"Oh yeah, that's my bonded sitting next to yours," Barricade chuckled, shaking his head. "Tera's quite friendly as well. And can she talk!"

"Hang back a moment, I wanna surprise ma sparkmate. She's not expectin' me."

Barricade nodded and did as his partner asked. Then watched as Sonata let out a shriek when Downshift snuck up on her. She slapped his arm but was smiling, obviously thrilled to see her sparkmate. Again, Barricade felt wonderful about how his cycle was going seeing how much in love this mech and femme were.

Downshift had the same look Barricade had whenever he watched Pantera at home with him or with their mechs. And of course, Pantera with that sixth sense of hers knew he was near. He could feel her searching for him, happy that he was happy. And no matter how much Barricade could keep his end of their spark bond silent she could always sense him and find him.

'Get over here, lover,' she purred over their bond when their optics locked.

'As you wish, my love,' he replied back, sending his love to her.

"See, I was right," Downshift laughed as Barricade sat behind Pantera, pulling her onto his lap, hugging her close and kissing her shoulder.

"Shift, what are you talking about?" Sonata asked, snuggling in her bonded's arms.

"Ya an' Pantera bein' best friends already. They already have their next outin' planned!"

"We do," Tera laughed, making Barricade shake his head in amusement.

"Where are our mechs?" Barricade asked, kissing her cheek while looking out into the sea.

"Smokey and Blue are play with Ric in the oil. And…"

"Primus," Barricade gasped spotting Prowl down the beach with another sparkling.

It wasn't some optical illusion brought on the heat. Prowl _**wasn't**_ alone! He was with another sparkling his age or at least his size. They were both making something with the grains. Making something and laughing! 'Cade's spark about burst with joy upon seeing this new development with Prowl. His shy little mech was finally coming out of his shell.

"Isn't it wonderful, 'Cade?" Pantera smiled.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "His winglets are fluttering!"

"Flutterin?" Shift asked.

"Praxian mechs can express a lot of emotions with their wings," Barricade explained unable to take his optics off his youngest son. "This is the first time I've ever seen Prowl flutter his when he's away from home and around strangers. Even at home he only flutters them for Pantera. It means he's very, very happy."

"Looks like ma Jazz an' yar Prowl are at the start o' a wonderful friendship. Just like us," Shift grinned.

Barricade couldn't have agreed more.

"Go on," Pantera smiled over her shoulder at him. "He asked about you earlier."

After a quick kiss, Barricade got to his peds and moved over to where Prowl was playing with Jazz. One of his favorite moments after he'd become a father was greeting his sons whenever he came home. Bluestreak was always the most affectionate and would hug his father. Smokescreen now that he was older was more mature about it would simply just say 'hi father'.

But Prowl…Prowl was special not only because they almost lost him but because he reminded Barricade so much of himself - reserved, calm, patient, had a bit of a temper. But when Prowl greeted Barricade with that biggest smile he could shine, Barricade felt blessed by Primus to make his son that happy.

"Father!" the little black and white mech smiled wide and threw himself at Barricade as he sat down. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Prowl," Barricade sighed, hugging his son close, kissing the small red chevron. His spark pulsed contently when he felt the unconditional love of his son flow so openly over their bond. "So who's this?"

"This is Jazz he's my best friend!" Prowl said excitedly, climbing off his father's lap and put an arm around Jazz's shoulders - another new development. Prowl had no problem touching inanimate objects. Strangers…forget it!

"Are ya an' my daddy best friends to?" Jazz eagerly asked.

"You could say that," Barricade smirked. "We're partners at the Precinct."

"Woohoo!" Jazz cheered, dancing in place, making Barricade laugh.

Prowl giggled, "Jazz, you're funny."

"I'm dancin'!"

"Father, can Jazz come over to our home and recharge? Mommy said it was ok for Smokey and Blue to have a recharge with Ric at his creators' home."

"Well, it's ok with me. But Jazz has to ask his mother and father."

"I'll do that now!" Jazz exclaimed and then took off running.

The little mech only ran a couple of feet before he turned back and grabbed Prowl's hand.

'You see it to?' Pantera asked over their bond.

'Yes, Jazz seems to be the blessing we'd hope for, for Prowl,' Barricade responded as Prowl and Jazz ran back, all smiles and giggles.

"They said yes!" Prowl shouted jumping on Barricade.

"Oh, you got me!" Barricade yelped, falling down as if Prowl tackled him.

"Help me Jazz!"

"Ok Prowl!"

Laughter and giggles erupted. Squeals and shouts were shrieked loudly. Titanium grains ended up in all gaps of their armory but neither of the three cared. Barricade certainly had no problems playing like a youngling with Prowl and Jazz. He actually wouldn't care until the next cycle when Downshift would show all the pic-caps he took to the mechs at the Precinct!

"Ok, little mechs! You're wearing me out!" Barricade laughed, hefting them both up in to his arms.

"Father, no," Prowl yelped, trembling as Barricade stepped into the oil. He turned, hiding his face in his father's chest.

"We need to get cleaned up."

"He's scared of turbo sharks," Jazz whispered. "Smokey scared 'im."

"I see. Prowl. Son, look at me," Barricade gently requested and waited until Prowl looked up at him with wide terrified optics. He smiled warmly down at his son sending his love and reassurance over their bond. "I am your father. I promise you no turbo shark with harm you."

"Or Jazz?"

"Or Jazz. If one gets nears us, I'll used my blaster and blow it's aft to bits!"

"Wow!" both Prowl and Jazz gasped in awe.

"Yar papa's cool!"

"Yeah, he's the best," Prowl smiled, hugging Barricade.

_**Much…much later that cycle…**_

"Now this was one Cybertronian Heat Cycle for the record files," Pantera exhaled settling on the couch. "It never gets this hot in Praxus."

"Definitely a cycle I'm never going to forget though," Barricade murmured, looking at the music data files. He finally found the one he wanted to listen to and put it on as a soft level. "All that worrying for Prowl's emotional well being. Thank Primus he met Jazz."

"Agreed. He didn't even get upset on the transport ride home. It was like he and Jazz were in their own little world."

Barricade sighed tiredly, snuggling on the couch with Pantera.

"Sonata said the domicile next to theirs will be up for purchase next orn," she whispered. "If we plan on making this move permanent it'd be a good investment. Then Prowl can go to the same school as Jazz."

"I think after the progress Prowl made today, it would be a good idea. I would hate to break up such a budding friendship."

"I see it too. They're going to be the best of friends as they grow up together.

"Doesn't surprise me. Prowl is a lot like…"

"What is it?"

"You hear that?" he questioned, lifting his head.

"Hear what?"

"Exactly, it's far too quiet," he said, getting up quickly. "I'll be right back."

A few klicks later, Pantera decided to see what was taking Barricade so long. She quickly found him standing in Prowl's doorway.

"Shh," he whispered as she approached, noticing how her mech's doorwings were fluttering softly.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Look," he grinned, pointing.

The room was cleaned up neatly, each toy and puzzle in its place - Pantera never tolerated a messy room and taught her mechs while they were young. The only light was a soft blue tinted light on the desk, courtesy of Sonata because Jazz had one fear - he was afraid of the dark. And on the bed, snuggled together under a single thermal blanket were two little exhausted black and white mechlets - Prowl's arm was protectively laying over Jazz's chest while the little visored mech's head was tucked under Prowl's chin. One was purring and the other's wings were fluttering.

"You're right, love," Pantera whispered. "It's definitely the start of something special."

**TBC…**


	17. Day Eighteen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

* * *

**Day 18**: Guardian

Of all the mechs or femmes to offer their services as guardian to the small youngling, no one, including Optimus Prime, expected Prowl to step forward and claim responsibility. In fact, all of Prime's officers were stunned into a few moments of silence.

"No slaggin' way!" Ironhide grumbled, glaring at the tactician across the table. "No slaggin' way are we gonna let a sparkless fragger like you raise that little younglin'!"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to agree with Ironhide on this one," Ratchet spoke up. "You didn't even show any emotion kind of emotional response when the first reports of the attack on Praxus, your home city, came in. Even worse, you were out there working when you should have been grieving! I know your battle computer gives you some control over your emotions. But in my professional opinion you're not fit to raise the youngling."

Optimus listened as many others seemed to agree with Ratchet and Ironhide. He also observed how his SIC's facial expression never changed. Not that Optimus expected Prowl to have some kind of emotional outburst. He'd never met a mech who was so in control of his emotions like Prowl was. In fact, Optimus not only admired his second in command but he also envied Prowl because he didn't require wearing a battle mask to hide his emotions like Optimus did.

"Wait an astrosecond guys!" Bumblebee spoke up, standing to get everyone's attention. "I don't think Prowl is as bad a mech as you're making him out. After all, he's bonded to Jazz. That has to count for something. And I'm sure if Jazz was here he'd have something to say against all of you about Prowl."

"But he's not here," Ironhide huffed. "And I still say Prowl doesn't deserve to be the younglin's guardian. I'll do it, Optimus. I helped raise Bumblebee so you know I'll do a good job. Besides, Blue's still a sparklin' at four vorns. Far too young to allow his life to be ruined."

"Prowl, have you anything to say?" Optimus spoke, curious as to how the black and white mech was going to defend himself.

"I do have a few things to say, Sir."

"Very well. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Sir," Prowl nodded politely, rising to his feet. "I'm aware that many of you see me as sparkless, a workaholic, even a prick because I'm such a stickler for the rules and don't overreact emotionally to anything. I've never made it a secret that I am a private mech by nature. I'm a logical mech. To whom and when I share my emotions is of my choosing. I think if you'll ask Jazz, he can attest to each one of you that I do have emotions and I can be as passionate as the next mech. And where you all see a workaholic, I see myself as a mech dedicated to the Autobots, to doing my job to the best of my abilities in order to ensure our success in battle, to ensure that the lives lost are kept to a minimum, to ensure we have the resources to run all our bases of operations. Hence the reason I will continue to quote rules and regulations on this base."

"Ratchet, you say I had no emotional reaction to the attack on Praxus. You're wrong," Prowl continued with full conviction in his tone. "My actions spoke _**volumes**_ of what I felt inside. Who was it that organized, in record breaking time, the hundreds of mechs, the several dozen transports, the medical supplies and equipment needed for the rescue operation? Who was it who came up with the search plan that enabled us to save two hundred precious sparks out of a billion? Who was it who was first to greet the injured as they were coming in?"

Optimus observed how Ratchet turned away, unable to meet the Praxian's intense, penetrating gaze.

"If you require further evidence of how much losing my home city meant to me, ask Jazz. He's the one and only mech who I can afford the luxury of seeing me at my weakest. Ask him about how he had to pick me up off the ground when I collapsed three cycles into the rescue operation because I kept pushing myself to save just one more life. Over a billion lost! Two hundred saved. How many of you can recount each of the survivors' names?"

Prowl looked slowly at each mech in turn around the table. When no one challenged him he turned to address his Prime.

"Optimus, I'm aware you have the final say and I will abide by whatever you command. I can only present you with the facts that there is no one more qualified to be Bluestreak's guardian than myself. He is Praxian. I am Praxian. I am most qualified to teach him his heritage. You of all mechs understand how important it is that we do not forget who we are during this war. You personally know of my devotion to the Autobots having seen me server under your father's leadership. I can promise you that I would promote the same kind of devotion to Bluestreak and more. And finally, because of my _**long-time**_ bondmate, Bluestreak would be raised in a stable environment…we'd be a family."

"And what of Jazz?" Optimus asked. "Have you informed him of your intentions?"

"Yes, Sir. I made Jazz fully aware of my plan to take in Bluestreak before he left for his mission. He was…in his own words, 'thrilled', Sir."

"Then my decision is made, I will appoint Prowl as Bluestreak's official guardian."

The decision was final.

No one protested, in front of Optimus at least, for it was clear the Prime favored Prowl being little Bluestreak's guardian. An orn later those with lingering doubts in Prowl's abilities as guardian came to believe their Prime had chosen wisely. Prowl had sustained severe injuries during a skirmish with some Decepticons while on patrol. Bluestreak showed _**his**_ devotion by refusing to leave Prowl's side. Not even Jazz could convince the sparkling to leave his guardian's side.

A question was asked to satisfy the curiosity of several mechs on the base as to this obvious love and devotion this small youngling had for Prowl. Bluestreak's answer was simple and spark felt by all.

"Coz, Prow's my guardian. He wuvs me and I wuv him."

**The End.**


	18. Day Nineteen

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Pure crack ficage!

* * *

**Day 19**: Fishnets (the fabric or fishing tool)

"This is so cool!" Sideswipe whispered excitedly.

"You do know our afts will be in deep slag if we get caught in Prowl and Jazz's quarters."

"I know! That's what makes this so cool!"

"I can't believe you're my brother," Sunstreaker groaned and then slapped Sideswipe in the back of his head. "You're an idiot! I swear if we end up in the brig because of this stupid prank of yours I'll disown you as my brother."

"You say that every time, bro."

"Well this time I mean it," Sunny frowned, following his brother into the berth room. "I must say, Prowl has been a good influence on Jazz. This place is immaculate. I remember how you couldn't tell the berth from the floor in Jazz's quarters with all the music files he had scattered everywhere."

"Well, Jazz was always on a mission and since he was pronging the SIC regularly well _**before**_ bonding with him I guess there's no need for his own quarters," Sides giggled.

"Let's just do this!" Sunny growled just as Sideswipe's foot hit something solid.

"What's this?"

"Whatever it is don't touch it," Sunny suggested and glanced over at his brother. Sunny groaned, rolling his optics. "Too late."

"Primus, you gotta look at this stuff, bro!" Sides giggled. "There's so much black mail material in here!"

That got Sunny's attention and he quickly knelt down beside his brother.

"Cyber porn videos, stasis-cuffs, what's this?"

"An energon whip," Sunny answered receiving a confused look from his brother. "Don't ask. Some mechs or femmes get off on it."

"So, some kinky interfacing paraphernalia then. Sweet," Sides commented. Then suddenly his optics widened and he pulled out some fabrics he'd never seen before. "What's this stuff?"

"Well, fitting with theme of what's in the trunk, that is most likely human sex paraphernalia," Sunny explained. "They're tactile creatures like us. How things feel against their skin can be a turn on for them. Jazz _**is**_ always going on about how silk feels. Now we know why."

"What's this, it looks…odd?"

"They're fishnet stockings. They're just as soft as the silk fabric and much cheaper to buy."

"How the frag do you know all this stuff?" Sides asked, looking at disbelief at his brother.

"Internet," Sunny stated. "I'm not sure why Jazz has all this stuff. I doubt his tight aft of a bondmate, _**Prowler**_, is into any of this stuff."

"Maybe that's why Jazz hides it."

"No matter, put it all back. We need to finish what we came in here for and get out."

Sideswipe nodded and replaced everything back into the storage bin. Then his optics widened recognizing the name the hieroglyphs spelled.

"Sunny, forget the prank, I've got a better idea!"

_**The next morning in Prowl's office… **_

Prowl came to an abrupt stop when he noticed something resting on his normally cleared desk. Upon closer inspection he found it was two items. A datapad with a note on it and a somewhat familiar piece of fabric.

Curious, Prowl read the note.

"_Jazz, please report to my office immediately!_" he commed instantly over a private line and shut it down before Jazz could respond. He even blocked his end of their shared sparklink he was so mad.

Two point three klicks later, Jazz hurried into Prowl's office with a worried expression on his face.

"What is it? What happened? Are ya ok?" the saboteur asked.

"No, I'm not ok," Prowl remarked irritably and handed over the datapad and stocking. "And _**this**_ is what happened! Read it."

_Dear Prowler,_

_We have your trunk of cyber porn paraphernalia. If you are a good little mech you will get one item from the trunk back for each prank Sunny and I pull off. The catch is you can't punish us. And no, your bondmate cannot claim the items were his so don't even bother. If you punish us, sic Jazz on us, or even say one harsh word towards us we'll let slip that you're actually a cyber porn fiend. As a token of good grace, we've given you the first item, the fishnet stockings._

_Have A Nice Cycle,_

_The Twins - S&S_

Jazz was mortified after reading the blackmail note.

"Prowl, I…"

"Jazz, I understand your need to collect some…exotic items from various cultures and store them. I even gave you my trunk to store some of them in. However, if you do not fix this misinterpretation…bondmate or not, we are not interfacing for a full vorn! Starting…now."

"Let's not be too hasty!" Jazz stammered subspacing the stocking and blackmail note. "Like ya said it was just a misinterpretation."

Prowl gave Jazz that look. The tactician was being deadly serious.

"Ok…I'll fix it. I promise ya!"

With that Jazz took off running. No way in pit was he going a full vorn with no interfacing!

It didn't take him long to find two smug looking twins who looked like they could get away with murder drinking high grade and opening talking about their next prank. Without a single word, Jazz grabbed them both by their scruff bars and dragged two kicking and screaming twins out of the recreation room and into the nearest storage closet.

"Get out! I need it!" Jazz growled after he yanked open storage closet door. "_**Out! Now**_!"

A normally irate medic, aka Ratchet, and cranky weapon's specialist, aka Ironhide, filed out with a passive engineer, aka Wheeljack in tow. Even they knew not to mess with Jazz when he was this PO'd!

"I guess what they say about Engineers is true bro," Sides commented.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Sunny asked.

"I'm not sure. I just heard that line befo…whoa!"

"Shut up!" Jazz roared shoving them into the back corner of the small closet and then he closed the door sealing them inside.

"Alright, mech, chill out," Sideswipe replied. "What's got your energon line in a twist?"

"Prowl can't use you to pressure us. That's a violation of the agreement," Sunstreaker added somewhat arrogantly.

"And you can't claim it was your stuff. We wouldn't believe you," Sideswipe smirked.

Jazz's visor flared and he rushed the two mechs pinning them hard against the wall.

"Listen ya two numbnodes! I don't give a frag if ya believe me or not. I'm here to look afta my own interests. Interests ya two are muckin' up! So get this in through yar thick titanium plated heads. Ya saw nothing' in the trunk ya opened. In fact, ya were never in our quarters. If there so much as a tiny peep about the paraphernalia belongin' to Prowl I will personally make yar lives a livin' hell!"

"And why should we listen to you?" Sideswipe asked.

"'Coz I ain't gonna go a full vorn without interfacin' with ma mech! That would make Jazz very, very cranky. An' we don't wanna a cranky Jazz ridin' yar afts the entire vorn, do we?"

The twins quickly shook their head.

"That's right. We want a happy Jazz!" Jazz smiled evilly.

This time the twins nodded in full agreement.

"Cranky Jazz bad. Happy Jazz good."

"Cranky Jazz bad. Happy Jazz good," the twins repeated.

"Good," Jazz smiled patting them both rather roughly on the face plates. "Be sure to let Prowl know to disregard the note ya left on his desk an' make sure the trunk is returned to our quarters. I will be inspectin' it shortly to ensure all _**my**_ belongins are there."

With that Jazz left the twins alone in the closet.

"Frag he's scary when his pissed," Sides nervously chuckled.

Sunny suddenly punched Sides hard in the side of the head.

"I told you it was a bad idea," Sunny added.

"Relax, bro. We're still in one piece and not in the brig."

"For once," Sunny huffed.

"Wanna see what dirt we can dig up on Ratchet, Ironhide, and Wheeljack?"

"Sure let's go."

_**Later that cycle…**_

Jazz entered his shared quarters. He nodded in satisfaction upon seeing the trunk at the foot of the berth. Confident he terrified the twins to do what he told them, he simply shoved the trunk under the berth. No way the deviant duo would disobey an angry Jazz anyway.

Just as he turned to leave he was suddenly accosted from behind.

Surprised and stunned, Jazz quickly found himself unable to retaliate as stasis cuffs had been swiftly and expertly used, binding his hands behind his back. Then he was twirled around and shoved hard, toppling onto his back on the berth. A flash of black and white pounced on him. It was the only glimpse of his bondmate Jazz saw before his optics were covered with a dark silk fabric.

"Jazz, you are a surprisingly efficient mech when you desire to be," Prowl purred into Jazz's audio receptor, straddling his lover. "Perhaps I need to punish you more often."

Jazz felt something soft slide teasingly around one of his sensory horns and then the other, making his entire body shudder with need.

"If this is yar idea of punishment, then please do," Jazz groaned, moving his hips evocatively.

"That's a new record for you," Prowl said flatly.

"Uh?" Jazz asked confused wondering if his befuddled processor was playing tricks on him - Prowl didn't sound happy.

"That took less than six astroseconds for your interface panel to heat up from the moment the stocking caressed your sensory horn."

Jazz blushed and shrugged a shoulder.

"It kind o' turned me on, I guess," he smirked crookedly.

The silk cloth covering his optics was removed and a muffled beep sounded signally the stasis cuffs were unlocked. His smiled instantly faded upon seeing the sad look on his bondmate's face plates.

"Are my affections not adequate enough for you?" Prowl asked in a quiet voice avoiding optic contact.

"Prowler, look at me. Babe. Look at me," Jazz whispered, affectionately caressing the mech's face into turn his gaze. "There isn't a bot alive with a more wicked glossa or more nimble fingers than ya. An' to be honest, there are times when I just look at ya an' my interface panel heats up. Especially when ya flutter those doorwings."

"How do you explain what happened a moment ago?"

"What happened a moment ago surprised me…in a very good way, obviously."

Prowl seemed unconvinced yet said nothing.

"Ok, ya know that after we woke from our long stasis that I've been like a younglin' in an energon treat establishment on this planet. So many different cultures. Varieties of music, languages…pleasures."

"Please continue," Prowl said, moving off to the side so Jazz could sit up.

"Well I don't know if ya know or not but these humans really enjoy their love makin'. An' afta reading' up on some o' the stuff they do…well it kind o'got me thinkin'," Jazz nervously explained. "I was never one for that sort o' stuff on Cybertron. But the idea o' how soft a silky fabric felt against somethin' like my sensory horn…well…it turned into a fantasy of mine."

"Why did you not tell me? I'm your bondmate. It's my duty to see to your happiness."

"'coz it was just a silly fantasy."

"_**Nothing**_ you desire is silly to me," Prowl firmly said, placing the fishnet stocking in Jazz's hand.

Jazz looked at if or a moment, noticing there was a tear. He suddenly remembered he still had the stocking in his subspace pocket and pulled it out.

"How'd you get this one?" Jazz asked holding up the damaged stocking.

"That was the original one you had in your trunk," Prowl confessed. "You had me look for a music file you thought was in the trunk. I found the stocking. Whether you were aware or not, I took notice to some of the things you were reading. I was curious."

"The fragging thing snagged on the handle of my doorwing," the tactician continued, grumpily. "I had no idea it was so fragile and could be damaged so easily! Do you have any idea how mortifying and humiliating it was when I had to ask Carly to purchase a replacement so you'd never find out? I practically had to give up our first born to buy her silence!"

Jazz stared incredulously at his bondmate for the longest moment before the wildest of laughs burst from him. Prowl flicked his doorwings irritably but Jazz could feel the mech's amusement over their bond.

"Come here, lover," Jazz smirked, wrapping the fishnet stocking around Prowl's neck. Giving a gently tug, Jazz pulled the mech into an affectionate kiss. "Seems I'm not the only one with a silly fantasy."

"So it would seem," Prowl smiled, pulling Jazz into his arms. "Good thing I arranged for us to have the cycle off."

Jazz laughed richly, "Why does that not surprise me?"

**The End.**


	19. Day Twenty

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N**: Mature content

* * *

**Day 20: **Animal Instinct

Most cycles whenever Jazz dropped by Prowl's office, unannounced, it was a welcomed break from the mundane. Prowl hated data work as much as the next much but he was duty bound to see it get done. Jazz knew this and his _**distractions**_ were usually exceedingly pleasant and brought Prowl much relief to help him get through his work.

That being said, there were other cycles when Jazz dropped by he seemed hell-bent on driving Prowl into early termination. The saboteur's panache for being so illogical at times had caused Prowl's processor to ache so bad he wished it would explode just for some relief or Jazz would cause it to completely lock up and shut Prowl down on a few occasions.

This cycle, Jazz seemed in the mood to give Prowl a throbbing processor ache. And it was far too early in the cycle for a processor ache.

"What do you mean?"

"Ya know, haven't ya ever wanted to jus' let loose, be wild…ya know…let that primal, basic animal instinct be in control?"

"Jazz, I'm the SIC. I do not have time or the luxury to let loose or be wild. Besides, I am often in touch with one particular basic animal instinct."

"Really? What might that be?"

"Survival," Prowl replied dryly. "It is often a theme of any battle plan I come up with."

Jazz frowned.

"What? Would you rather me let loose and go wild, beating the slag out of your aft for constantly interrupting my work?"

"Ya never know," Jazz smirked, trailing a finger over the ridge of Prowl's doorwing. "I might like that."

Prowl put down his stylus, looking directly into his lover's visor. He recognized that devious look and whimsical smirk. It usually caused Prowl to fall behind in his work, and not always in a good way.

"What do you _**really**_ want, Jazz?" Prowl asked after a few moments.

"What's what?"

"You want something. What is it?"

"Well…Ratchet thinks ya're workin' too hard again. He was this close to issuin' a medical lock down on yar terminal. But I stopped 'im."

"You stopped him?" Prowl asked in disbelief.

"Ok, I bribed 'im into not doin' it. An' I promised 'im I'd see to it personally that ya took at least one cycle off to have some relaxin' fun."

"Why do I get the impression that the kind of relaxing fun you have in mind has something to do with…'letting loose'?"

"Ya know me too well, Prowler," Jazz smirked.

_**Two joors later in a private sparring room…**_

Jazz ducked, knowing he just narrowly avoided Prowl's ped. Sticking to rule number one of the rules he laid down, Jazz's visor remained offline making him blind. But he could feel and hear the air whoosh over his helm from Prowl's kick. Much to Jazz's delight, Prowl was definitely still following the second rule to the letter and wasn't holding back. Jazz truly felt the power in that kick even though it missed its target!

"That would have hurt mech!" Jazz chuckled.

"You did instruct me not to hold back," Prowl remarked as they exchanged blows. "Do you wish to restructure the rules?"

"No way mech! My pride's on the line 'ere."

"I thought this was supposed to be relaxing fun. What does pride have to do with that?"

"My audio's against yar doorwings, mech. Which is better when the optics are offline?"

"Then you need to step it up. According to my calculations, I've landed more punches and have knocked you to the floor more times."

Jazz suddenly lunged thinking he targeted precisely where Prowl was.

It was a mistake.

He allowed his emotions or his pride mostly, to dictate his actions. As a result, for the fifth time, Jazz ended up face first on the floor, with Prowl pouncing and pinning him firmly down.

"Do you concede?"

"This round. I'll get ya next round."

"If you say so, Jazz," Prowl laughed, offering a hand to help Jazz up.

Jazz grumpily pushed it away getting to his own peds. Then he proceeded to grumble and curse himself as he stomped around preparing himself for the next round.

"Perhaps we should stop," Prowl suggested.

"No way, mech!"

"But you don't sound as if you're having fun."

"I am havin' fun!" Jazz snapped.

He frowned when he heard Prowl exhale heavily.

"Sorry Prowler. I just get competitive."

"I'm fully aware," Prowl spoke softly. "I'm ready when you are."

Jazz didn't hesitate and rushed silently at Prowl. The winged mech made a counter moved from what Jazz could hear, adjusting accordingly. Once again, their hands locked onto each other's forearms and they did a familiar wrestling dance.

At roughly the same height and weight, neither mech could gain the advantage over the other. If Jazz moved his peds quickly one way, Prowl moved perfectly to counter. Right. Left. Forward. Back. Neither one making any ground until Prowl suddenly went down when Jazz pushed forward with a growl. Surprised, Jazz toppled onto Prowl and then angrily jumped up to his peds.

"What the frag was that?" Jazz demanded.

"You beat me."

"Don't hand me that slag, Prowl! I don't need ya charity!"

Prowl didn't respond. In fact the room went eerily silent. Jazz sighed, realizing he'd upset the mech.

"Listen babe, I'm sorry. Ya know I love ya to bits. But I don't want ya to compromise yarself like that ever again. If I beat ya, it has to be fair. Ok?"

Silence was his response.

"Prowl?" Jazz called worriedly, wondering if he overreacted like he often did when he upset Prowl.

"_Ok, Jazz._"

Jazz stiffened upon hearing Prowl's voice over a comlink. So Prowl wasn't mad nor was he too upset. If Prowl was mad Jazz would have known it immediately. The mech never hesitate to let his temper erupt around Jazz. It used to be something Jazz loved to do when he first met Prowl only because the mech was so calm about everything.

No, the fact that Prowl used his comlink meant he was seriously hiding in the open room from Jazz. Not allowing any kind of a sound to give away his position to Jazz's ultra sensitive audio receptors in his sensory horns.

Accepting the challenge, Jazz smiled going into his own stealth mode hoping Prowl's sensitive doorwings didn't pick up his movements. The thrill of the hunt was like jolt of electricity coursing through his systems. It was a rush and he thrived on it.

However, ten clicks passed and neither mech made a move at each other. But Jazz wasn't motionless and he knew Prowl was moving around the room too. Just when he thought he had a bead on the mech he found nothing in the area.

Then all of a sudden Jazz detected a change in the air pressure around him and turned. A heavy, fast moving weight slammed into Jazz, driving him hard on his back onto the floor. A low, menacing, deep, guttural growl sounded in his audios vibrating his sensitive sensory horns. The frequency was at the perfect pitch, making his horns tingle in a way he hadn't anticipated.

He gasped at the sensation, as the pleasant tingles traveled down his spinal relays, unable to control himself and in an instant lips crushed against his hard and fast, Prowl's glossa penetrated quickly, claiming what was his. Powerful legs clamped down over Jazz's making it impossible for him to get any kind of leverage. And strong, knowing hands and agile fingers stroked and teased him relentlessly and any thoughts of struggling against the onslaught flew out the proverbial window.

Jazz's senses were overwhelmed. Literally! He couldn't tell which was up or down, right from left. It felt like Prowl was all around him, enveloping him. Every caress was electric making Jazz squirm with pleasure. Every kiss was spark racing making him moan with rapture.

The first overload hit Jazz so hard and fast that he cried out more out of surprise, arching into his lover.

Jazz barely had a chance to recover when he felt the thick smooth spike of his love penetrate him slowly, deliberately, filling him completely. Jazz smiled into the deeply passionate kiss when he realized his first overload was brought on by mere touch alone.

Once again, Jazz quickly felt as if he was drowning in sea of bliss, consumed by his lovers knowing touches, fiery kisses. With each powerful push into his core, an unrelenting, rolling tide of pleasure washed through Jazz again and again. Wave after wave slowly built up within until one final surge explosively pushing him over the edge, making his cry of delight echo loudly through the room.

But Jazz refused to completely succumb to dark oblivion just yet. With his systems still reeling from the pleasurable onslaught, Jazz forced himself to remain online. He knew Prowl hadn't overloaded yet. And from the sounds of the frustrating whimpers and grunts and by the almost frantic, wild way Prowl was pounding into Jazz, his lover was in dire need of some help.

A carefully aimed and accurately calibrated magnetic pulse hit Prowl's spark temporarily dazing him and all his systems. As intended, Jazz felt his lover's form relax just enough to bring him down from his frenzied high which in turn would enable him to enjoy what Jazz was more than willing to offer.

With a low growl, Jazz nibbled and suckled along Prowl's neck making the winged moan loudly. Knowing hands moved over his lover's form, releasing the faintest of mag pulses, making Prowl tremble in his arms. Lifting his knees, Jazz hugged Prowl's hips with his legs, rocking suggestively against his lover.

Prowl rip off a predatory growl and started plunging into Jazz once more over and over. This time Jazz moved in perfect unison with his lover. Every stroke, squeeze, kiss, suckle, or scratch designed to bring Prowl closer to his pinnacle. Jazz would do anything and everything so he could see that one brief moment of pure, unmasked, bliss spread across his love's faceplates.

When his lover's pace picked up and grew rather desperate once again, Jazz onlined his optics at just the right moment just as Prowl let loose a long, primal roar at the moment of his release. The view was brief but oh so beautiful in Jazz's optics. A sight he never, ever got tired of seeing. An affectionate smile spread across his faceplates as his own overload jolted his systems knocking him completely offline.

Ever so slowly, Jazz powered up his visor as he lay on the floor in a pleasurable daze. Checking his internal chronometer he found he'd been offline for a about ten klicks after his third overload. There still in his arms and inside him was his lover, helm resting on his chest satiated with a dopey grin on his faceplates.

"Primus, Prowler, yar an animal," Jazz giggled, tenderly caressing that handsome face.

Prowl's deep laugh rumbled through Jazz's chassis, making him tighten his arms around his lover.

"I mean ya really let loose!"

The winged mech lifted his head up and Jazz grinned brightly at the adoration and mirth in his mech's rich cobalt optics. It was a sight he was always humbled by as Prowl only reserved such looks for Jazz and only Jazz.

"What can I say, Jazz? You just have a way of bringing the animal out in me," Prowl smiled fondly, softly stroking one Jazz's sensory horns.

"Hmm," Jazz purred, offlining his visor and leaning into Prowl's affections.

"What is it my love?" Prowl whispered when Jazz exhaled heavily.

"I'm definitely gonna have to work on bringin' that animal out more often!"

**The End.**


	20. Day Twentyone

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** Angst, possible tissues needed.

* * *

**Day 21**: Reason to believe

Jazz onlined to the worst system upset ever. His body ached all over. His tank churned violently. He barely moved his leg which in turn only amplified the queasiness in his midsection. Grimacing and groaning he rushed as fast as he could into the wash room.

Of course, purging his tanks only exacerbated his already depressive state. This would be the third cycle in a row he'd be unable to face the world. The third cycle he clung to the tiny strand of hope that Prowl would come back to him and forgive him.

After he was done ejecting the partially digested energon he dragged himself back into the main living room of the apartment and returned to the couch. He couldn't bring himself to enter the berth room. He didn't even have the courage to look at the berth he shared with Prowl. The emotional pain was too raw still.

"How could I've been so stupid?" he wept, curling up beneath a thermal blanket, trembling.

Like so many times in the past few cycles, Jazz wept himself into recharge. Sometime later he was woken up by a persistent pounding on the apartment door. The urge to purge made him sit up even though he really didn't want to. He was minimally grateful that the aches had died down some. But nothing could alleviate the pain in his spark. The fact that he recognized the three mechs' voices outside his door only caused his spark to constrict even more with guilt and anguish.

"_Jazz! Open up the door!_" shouted Blaster who was Jazz's best friend and manager for his band. "_He's called in sick the past three cycles_."

"_That's not like Jazz_," commented Streetwise, Prowl's partner on the Force.

"_Just open the fragging door!_" Smokescreen yelled while pounding. "_Jazz! __I need to find my little brother! JAZZ!_"

That got Jazz's up on his peds.

Smokescreen didn't like the fact that Prowl had become an Enforcer. He was afraid the local precinct would use Prowl to get to Smokescreen and his underground and highly illegal gambling ring. To his relief when the precinct did try, Prowl refused. He was docked an orn's pay and suspended for that orn for disobeying the Chief.

But they never asked Prowl to turn on his brother ever again. To be honest, they couldn't afford to lose Prowl. Even though he was just a young Enforcer, he was one of the best. He and Street have had the best arrest record since becoming partners four vorns ago.

Jazz opened the door.

"About fragging time! Where's my brother?" Smokescreen demanded storming into the place.

"He's not here," Jazz spoke softly watching as Smokescreen searched the berthroom.

"You look like slag," Blaster commented, looking and sounding extremely worried.

Jazz's tank lurched and he dashed into washroom and purged his tanks.

"Help him out," Streetwise whispered from the wash room's doorway.

"**Frag!**"

"Calm down, Smokey," Streetwise said calmly. "I'm just as worried about Prowl as you. Let's sit down and give Jazz a couple of klicks."

"What's going on?" Jazz asked, wiping his mouth with the damp towel Blaster handed him.

"You don't know?" Blaster solemnly asked.

Jazz slowly shook his head.

"Best to show you then."

"Show me what? Is Prowl ok?" Jazz asked, following Blaster into the living room.

He immediately noticed how Street was looking over mess in the living room. No doubt the Enforcer would come to some conclusion not far from the truth. It was why he and Prowl worked so well together. They had an optic for the tiniest of details and quick processors to fit pieces of a puzzle together even if several pieces were missing.

"Sit down," Blaster suggested as he turned on the vid-screen.

"_It is estimated that some three million have lost their lives is this shocking devastation of Praxus. The Autobot Army on the scene are doing nothing more than a salvage operation. The prospect of finding any survivors at this point is slim._"

"Praxus…destroyed?" Jazz gasped, rubbing his chest to sooth his rumbling tank.

"Decepticons," Streetwise spoke softly.

"Jazz, please, tell me where my brother is," Smokescreen pleaded, appearing to be at his wits end. "I can't feel him. I can't tell if he's blocking me or…"

"I got a message from Prowl a few cycles ago," Street explained. "He informed me that he needed to take some time off to think. He wouldn't elaborate why or what it was about."

"When Street and Smokey arrived at the club this cycle, I told them you called in sick and that I hadn't seen you for a few cycles," Blaster said.

"Whenever Prowl needs to think about something really important, he always returns home to sit in Helix Gardens," Smokescreen wept, covering his optics. "Sentimental fragger loved to just sit and listen to the crystals humming."

It was as if a great weight had hit Jazz in the chest. He suddenly couldn't cycle enough air into his vents. His chest felt constricted. His spark hammered fast and hard within its chamber. And only one thought…one question raced through his processor as the room faded to black.

What had he done?

For the first time in cycles, Jazz didn't wake to a churning tank. But he didn't move, just in case.

"Absolutely no excitement in his condition. He needs rest," an all too familiar voice sounded.

Jazz onlined his visor to confirm that it was indeed Ratchet standing near him.

"What condition?" Blaster asked and Jazz felt tears well up in his optics.

"I'm with sparkling," he stated while sitting up.

"Just who's sparkling is it?" Smokescreen demanded, barreling straight for Jazz only to have Streetwise hold him back. "Coz if it was Prowl's no matter what kind of fight you guys had he'd never have left you!"

"I only found out last deca-cycle," Jazz spoke softly, the guilt increasing exponentially. "Prowl doesn't know."

"You fragger! My brother could be dead now because of you!"

"You don't think that thought hasn't crossed my processor!" Jazz roared jumping to his feet, tears streaming down his face, guilt twisting his spark into knots.

"Everyone just calm down. Smokescreen sit. Let Jazz explain," Streetwise calmly, yet firmly ordered.

Ratchet helped Jazz sit back down, handing him a cup of a purple liquid substance.

"It's special energon. The stuff I told you that you should be drinking for the sparkling," the medic explained.

Jazz nodded and took a drink. The warm liquid felt wonderfully soothing all the way down to his tank. The past three cycles he'd been neglectful of himself and the sparkling he carried. Now…now if something did happen to Prowl this sparkling was all he had left of the mech he loved so much.

"Prowl came home late, just like he informed me. So I made sure I was up. I wanted to tell him about the sparkling. And like clockwork, Prowl arrived precisely when he said he would. And like usual, he kissed my cheek and took the cup of energon from my hand. Only this night, he had several datapads with him."

"We'd just busted a huge drug ring," Street interjected. "We both had datafiles up to our optics to fill out and sort. Prowl opted to do his at home."

"That's what he started doing. I asked him to stop for just a few klicks and that I wanted to tell him something. He said he was exhausted and wanted to finish his work first then he'd devote some time to me before we recharged. I…I kind of snapped. Ratchet warned me that the sparking was wreaking havoc on my systems, throwing everything out of whack."

Jazz hugged himself recalling their argument.

"_Oh…so your work is more important than me? Than the mech you plan on bonding to?"_

"_My work is important, yes. But not more than you and you know that, Jazz. I'm doing everything I can to make a better life for us! If I get this next promotion we'll be able to save enough to move into a better neighborhood, a bigger apartment."_

"_And I can't make more credits to help?"_

"_What?"_

"_Admit it! You think my job as a singer is slag because it's not as stable as an Enforcer's job."_

"_I've never said that. I've always been supportive of your career."_

"_Ha! Like slag you have. What about that solo gig across town I wanted to do?"_

"_That prick only wanted you for himself. He didn't give a slag about how well you could sing! I felt I was within my rights to protect you."_

"_And last orn when the band got an offer to go to Kaon?"_

"_Kaon…the murder capital of Cybertron. Yeah, that's where I'd let my future sparkmate go. Be realistic Jazz!"_

"_Oh now you're treating me like a sparkling! Next you gonna say grow up, Jazz. Act more mature."_

"_You're doing a good job all on your own!"_

"_FRAG YOU!"_

"_That's so mature of you."_

"_How's this you sparkless fragger! I'm calling our bond off. I don't wanna bond to a mech who puts his career before his sparkmate."_

_Prowl took a step back as if he'd been physically punched in the face. The Jazz saw his doorwings arch up into a threatening V position as his anguish morphed into anger on his faceplates."_

"_Fine," he growled. "If you think so little of me then you won't ever have to deal with me again. Goodbye Jazz."_

_And like that…he was gone._

"What have I done?" Jazz wept drawing his knees up into his chest.

"You both overreacted," Smokescreen spoke softly, moving to sit beside Jazz. He pulled the mech into an embrace, comforting him as best as he could. "I know my brother. He loves you. He's still young and learning. You both are. This is just another learning experience."

"But I was so mean to him and he didn't deserve it," Jazz sniffled.

"And he was tired with a short fuse. But once he calms down he'll see things clearly," Streetwise smiled. "He told me that you're the one Jazz. There is no other mech he'll ever love as much as he loves you."

"That kind of love doesn't disappear overnight or is destroyed by a single argument," Ratchet commented. "That kind of love endures the agony of bad times and flourishes during the good times. I know. I speak from experience."

Jazz suddenly gasped, grabbing his chest. It wasn't any kind of physical pain. It was just some…surprising and wonderful.

"I'm ok," he quickly smiled when Ratchet was at his side in an instant. He giggled rubbing his chest, reaching back instinctively. "He's got a strong spark. I can feel him."

"Him?" Smokescreen asked, arching an optic ridge.

"The sparklin'," Jazz murmured and then turned his thoughts inward through the bond. 'Shh, settle down li'l one. Everything will be alright. I promise.'

Jazz smiled, feeling the sparkling calming down.

"Jazz?"

"I'm fine, Ratchet," Jazz said, rising to his feet. "I know what I have to do. I have to get to Praxus."

Ratchet frowned with a heavy sigh, "Jazz, there's nothing there you'll want to see and I wouldn't recommend any kind of traveling in your current condition. Your energy levels are too low. You'd be putting your sparkling and yourself at risk."

"Prowl's there and he's alive."

"How do you know?" Smokescreen asked.

"Because I believe that the love we shared to create this life cannot be so easily taken. Prowl's alive. I believe it with all my spark."

**TBC…**


	21. Day Twentythree

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** I was undecided about this one. My one thought was that it had to be centered around a sparkling or youngling Prowl. Taralynden suggest a mischievous Prowl. Well, I'm not sure if he turned out mischievous or not but some bot did by the end!

one more thing, I'm still working on the story for prompt 22. So it's not a typo. :)

* * *

**Day 23**: "It's always the quiet ones."

"Hey Red, what's going on? What'd you need me for?"

"Ah, just in time Wheeljack. We need a third party witness so that there is no rescinding on the bet."

"Mista Paranoid Glitch here thinks I'm not gonna pay up if he wins the bet basically," Jazz smirked, slightly tilting his chair back and propping his peds up on the edge of the security console. "Ya know us special ops mechs _**can't**_ be trusted."

"That's _**when**_ I win the bet," Red Alert countered, shoving Jazz's peds off the equipment. "And no, I cannot trust you. All special ops mechs are devious to their cores."

"Ouch, Red, that cut me deep," Jazz joked, clutching his chest with one servo.

"So what's the bet?" Wheeljack asked excitedly taking the offered seat.

"As you know, we've got sparklin's…"

"Technically they're younglings now," Red interrupted.

"They still stand only knee high, so I consider 'em sparklin's," Jazz countered. "Anyways, ya know where Ratchet stores the energon treats he makes for special occasions right?"

"Everyone knows not to touch them too unless they want to be reformatted," Wheeljack stated.

"Exactly, everyone who knows better won't touch them," Red added. "Everyone except the younglings."

"It can't be the younglings. They're too small," Wheeljack pointed out.

"They are the only logical culprits," Red Alert reiterated. "The camera levels do not pan down that low to the floor and there are no camera's in private offices at this point in time."

"An' we've narrowed it down to one or a pair of sparklin's," Jazz smiled.

"Really?" Wheeljack asked curiously.

"Bluestreak is eliminated simply because he can't keep his vocal processor silent. He would either say who it was or incriminate himself without even knowing it with as much as he talks," Red explained.

"It's not Bumblebee 'coz he's under constant protection an' Optimus and Elita would never allow their son to wonder the base alone no matta how mischievous he is," Jazz grinned.

"It's not Chromia either as the femling follows Ironhide and his weapons around like a mechano-puppy," Red added.

"Mirage?" Wheeljack offered.

"He's too shy," Red answered. "He sneaks around to hide. Not to get into things. No I believe its Sunstreaker and Sideswipe - regular pit spawns who love getting into trouble. They're always plotting and scheming and getting into no good."

"So that would mean that Jazz suspects it's Prowl."

"It's always the quiet ones, I keep tellin' Red but he won't listen to me," Jazz chuckled.

"I was always quiet when I was little but I jumped on my berth a lot," Wheeljack smiled brightly.

"Yeah, I caught Prowl doing that just the other cycle," Jazz giggled. "He's so cute when he gets flustered. His little winglets twitch nervously."

"Jazz you think all the sparklings are cute," Wheeljack pointed out.

Jazz merely shrugged a shoulder, smiling.

"Anyway, before we get too sidetracked. We want you here Wheeljack to bear witness to what we see and confirm who the winner is," Red Alert smiled. "We've already set up a special camera in Ratchet's office to record the incriminating evidence."

"Care of my exceptional skills," Jazz said proudly. "Doc bot doesn't even know it's in there."

"It's known all over the base that Ratchet made a fresh batch so the targets _**or**_ target should make their move tonight," Red explained pulling up the new camera feed on the main monitor.

"One more question," Wheeljack said. "How do they get the treats? Ratchet keeps them on the top shelf of his medical-data file collection."

"Ya see, sparkin's are prolific climbers," Jazz answered. "Ironhide caught Sunny and Sides…"

"We have movement," Red Alert announced interrupting Jazz.

Sure enough, the lights in Ratchet's office automatically came as someone entered his office. All optics were on the monitor watching intently from that point on. Almost instantly, a crooked smirk spread across Jazz's face plates when the familiar little black and white winged mechlet made his way across the room. The first thing Prowl did was push Ratchet's chair closer to the data-file case. Then he proceeded to pull himself up onto the chair, his little winglets fluttering to and fro for balance. Next he masterfully scaled each shelve to the very top where he pulled himself up and sat next to the energon goodie contain.

"Fearless, isn't he," Wheeljack commented as Prowl's little black peds dangled over the side, swinging back and forth.

"But he so quiet. Never complains or cries, not even when he has a system upset. He's always so neat and clean. And he always does what's asked of him," Red Alert exclaimed flabbergasted as Prowl opened the container and shoved two energon treats into his mouth, one after the other.

"Typical mech manners though," Jazz chuckled. "I've seen how ya eat, Red."

"Look, he figured out his subspace pocket!" Wheeljack cried out with excitement as they watched several energon goodies disappeared into Prowl's subspace pocket.

Then the mechlet shoved one more in his mouth before he replaced the lid on the container. Only when he was done chewing did he then climb down. He even pushed the chair back where it belonged before he left the office.

"Clever li'l mech too. So that settles it. Pay up Red," Jazz grinned wide with his hand held out.

Red Alert reluctantly withdrew the allotted amount of credits for the wager and handed them over to Jazz. The smug saboteur subspaced his winnings and left the still stunned Security Director and excited Engineer to themselves.

From there Jazz appeared to be meandering through the halls with no particular destination in mind, typical of them mech when he hasn't decided what to occupy his free time with. Only this time he knew precisely where he was going. He was simply making sure he wasn't being followed while avoiding the security monitors at the same time. As a saboteur he was always honing and fine tuning his skills. When he reached the designated room he quickly ducked inside and then head out the window, climbing up to the roof.

His final destination…a well used spot on the roof above the sparklings' dormitory was.

"Hey li'l mech," he whispered as the black and white winged mechlet smiled up at him.

"I did what you told me," he grinned and handed over three energon goodies to Jazz. "It was easy. Just like last time."

"Ya did good, Prowl. Ya did real good," Jazz said, rubbing the sparkin's helm. "But I thought I said four energon goodies."

"Well…I got hungry," Prowl answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, I suppose I can't have my li'l mech goin' hungry. Here, a credit for yar efforts."

"You promised me a story though!" Prowl exclaimed, white hands on his little black hips, winglets twitching.

"I did, didn't I. Ya're far too intelligent for yar age, ya know that?" Jazz chuckled, rubbing the back of his helm.

Prowl cocked his head to one side, unsure as to what Jazz was laughing about.

"Very well, come 'ere," Jazz smiled, sitting down, lifting up and setting down the sparkling on his lap.

Jazz proceeded to tell Prowl one of the mechlet's favorite stories all the while they shared the remaining energon treats together.

**The End.**


	22. Day Twentyfour

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**Day 24**: "Am I that transparent to you?"

* * *

For the longest time Prowl observed how many mechs interacted on and off the battlefield. It had become a habit and then later a duty of his as he served his Primes.

Yes, Prim_**es**_.

Only perhaps Ratchet and Ironhide know Prowl's true age. He was an orphaned youngling when Ironhide found him and mentored him.

He was a young soldier during Nova Prime's reign, rising and maturing through the ranks. By the time Nova passed and Sentinel was made Prime Prowl already had a reputation for his keen intellect, quick thinking in the heat of battle and life saving tactics. So it was with little wonder that Prowl was quickly appointed Sentinel Prime's Second in Command and Chief Tactical officer.

Little did he know that he'd bear the full weight of the entire Autobot Army upon his shoulders for six long orns after Sentinel's assassination. But he did so without hesitation or complaint knowing the Autobots needed a strong leader until the Matix chose a new Prime. And he was rewarded when the young Prime already so wise knew to retain Prowl's services as the SIC and CTO.

That cycle seemed so long ago.

Once again, there were new and younger mechs and femmes on Prime's main base in Iacon. They were all so typically eager to please their Prime and eager for battle. Very few didn't fit the mold of an average Autobot. One such mech did catch Prowl's optics the first time he saw the mech arrive in Iacon.

This mech had a look in his optics Prowl found intriguing. The mech was an enigma, puzzled that needed solving. Prowl loved to crack codes and solve puzzles. He had the patience to try again and again until victories.

And so, Prowl patiently watched this mech for a century as he rose up from the bottom of the ranks to a rather prolific and dangerous position of saboteur, performing bravely and beyond the call of duty, even seemed to be a little bit cocky at times but never so overconfident that it caused any lapses in judgment. In general the mech was highly intelligent, had good common sense, and was pure of spark.

Prowl learned that this mech was special.

And what surprised him was that no one else realized it. No one else saw the mech for who he really was.

Prowl knew. He recognized the look, the walk, the talk. Having lived so long, he knew all to well about this young mech. This mech who reminded him so much of himself when he was so young.

Alas, the cycle had come to see if this young mech was ready to achieve his full potential.

As the norm, the recreational room fell silent once they realized Prowl was present. It didn't bother him that they thought he was sparkless or emotionless. Living for so long during this war tends to dull ones emotions. He'd seen so much that of course he didn't react emotionally. Besides, as the SIC he doesn't need their friendship, just their respect and he had already earned that via his reputation and his actions on the battelfield.

After one quick scan of the room, Prowl spotted the mech he'd been looking for.

"Jazz, come with me please," he ordered and then left expecting the young black and white mech to follow him.

"Have I done somethin' wrong, Sir?" the young mech asked, quickly falling in stride with Prowl's steady gate.

"No. I've something to discuss with you and my office is the most appropriate place."

"Ya could have just commed me instead o' botherin' to come an' fetch me, Sir."

"I was in the vicinity. It was no bother."

"Oh."

The rest of the journey through the base was in silence. Prowl observed out of the corner of his optic how Jazz seemed in quiet contemplation. Presumably trying to figure out why he was being escorted to the SIC's off by the SIC himself.

"Please, sit down, Jazz," Prowl instructed as he took his own seat.

"I'm sorry 'bout my comment, Sir. I didn't mean to imply…"

"Jazz, relax, it's no bother," Prowl reiterated giving the mech a rare small mile.

To Jazz's credit he seemed to notice and relaxed.

"As you may or may not know, I'm in charge of key personnel evaluations," Prowl said, noticing how Jazz's tensed up slightly. "Part of the evaluation is an interview."

"But I just had one last orn with my superior, Sir."

"Yes, I know. I have it right here," Prowl said picking up the data pad for a moment before pushing it aside. "You are our top saboteur on the base. You have a ninety percent mission success rate. You're not afraid to do dirty work. However, my evaluations go beyond mere performance in the field. My evaluations are based on careful observations on how a mech or femme interacts with the other Autobots, how well they follow orders, how often they see fit to bend the rules to get the mission done."

"Beggin' yar pardon but ain't that the psyche departments? Sir?" he joked smiling nervously.

"To be honest, I never cared for my processor being evaluated. I've been around a long time and have seen many things. If I was going to crack I would have done so long ago. I suspect the same could be said of you. _**You**_ do not crack easily. You simply will yourself to hold steady and take it no matter how unpleasant things are around you."

Jazz sat back in silence, stunned.

"You are a pragmatist, not the optimist everyone else sees," Prowl continued. "You only let the others see what you want them to see. You always smile and never let anyone see your pain. You are friendly and well liked by everyone and yet friends to no one. And you keep everyone at arms length because you feel you have to because of your job as a saboteur. You think that if you have no ties to anyone then no one will miss you if a mission goes wrong, that no one will be hurt when you don't return. Sound about right?"

"Wow," he gasped. "Am I that transparent to ya?"

"It's part of my job," I simply replied. "Most mechs or femmes I can pick apart right away. Not with you. You were a challenge. It took time. You're different Jazz. You're above the others in a class all your own. I believe with my spark that you can make a difference in the right position. As the result of an unfortunate incident the right job for you has opened up. I'm offering you the position of Head of Special Operations _**and**_ Third in Command of the Autobots."

"Head…ops…third in…Primus…Command!" he stammered completely taken aback. "Wow, mech. I wasn't expectin' that! Ya really think I'm the mech for the job?"

"You wouldn't be here if I thought differently, Jazz."

"Hang on…ya mean…oh slag," he swallowed, covering his mouth.

"Yes, I am sorry. Prime is going to make an announcement later in cycle after next," Prowl solemnly answered. "Freeway was a good friend of mine and will be missed. He spoke very highly of you. Said you were a natural improviser when a mission didn't go as planned. You bend the rules for results, not for fun. And you have an inner strength the others are drawn to."

"He taught me so much," Jazz spoke softly, bowing his head.

"The decision is ultimately yours Jazz. But I believe you would honor him best by stepping into his place."

"O' course," he replied confidently, straightening up in his seat. "It would be an honor an' I will continue to do my duties to the best o' my abilities."

"Very well. I will inform Prime," Prowl said, rising to his peds. "He will want to meet with you personally later this cycle at the end of your shift. Do not be late."

"Yes, Sir."

"Congratulations, Jazz."

"Thank you, Sir!" he grinned humbly, shaking Prowl's hand.

"Don't thank me yet. You have a lot of hard work ahead of you."

"I'm up for the challenge, Sir."

"I believe you are. If you like, I would like to extend to you the same offer I gave Freeway when he was first became Head of Ops and TIC."

"Sure, I'll need any advice ya can give me."

"What I have to offer is more valuable than advice. It's my friendship. I understand your need to keep your distance from the others. For those of us in command it is a necessity when we know we could be sending a mech or femme to their death. What I'm offering you is the chance to be yourself around me. Believe me, I've been in this position a long time. It can get very lonely. You'll need an outlet…an ally."

"I understand and I'm honored, Sir. Freeway told me a lot about ya an' that he greatly valued his friendship with ya. He said behind that stoic face is a mech who has a passion for his work an' for others. I look forward to gettin' to know him. Sir."

"Well, you can start by calling me Prowl. I should warn you though, I am not as transparent as you."

Jazz laughed, "Well Prowl, I love a good challenge."

**The End.**


	23. Day Twentyfive

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N**: crack fic!

* * *

**Day 25**: Instant Attraction

The small winged youngling smiled and giggled happily up at his father as he was being tickled with the towel. His father was always busy but he made time for his creation each and every cycle. Fatherhood was as important to him as his bondmate and then his job. And the mech never shirked in any of his duties although at times found it difficult to manage all three. And it troubled his spark deeply whenever his job took him away from his family, especially his son.

Still, these were some of the moments Prowl cherished more than anything – being with Bluestreak and watching his creation's personality become more and more like Jazz with every passing cycle. A hint of pride always flickered within his spark whenever someone mentioned how Blue's physical attributes closely resembled Prowl. However, it could compare to the bursts of joy he felt however when someone said Blue acted so much like Jazz. It meant so much more to him because of the love and devotion he held in his spark for his bondmate.

Simply put: Jazz and Bluestreak were his happiness. Without them he'd be lost.

"Father?"

"Yes, Blue?" Prowl asked, carefully wrapping his in a thermal blanket, being mindful of his son's winglets.

"How did you and papa meet? Was it romantic like your first date?"

"Who told you about our first date?"

"Papa did," Blue smiled, snuggling in his father's arms once he was lifted up. "He said you were so handsome and romantic that he couldn't help himself. And that it was cute when your face turned red when he kissed you."

Prowl chuckled at the memory. It wasn't the kiss that made him blush. It was the fact that Jazz boldly grabbed his aft, surprising him. The kiss silenced Prowl's yelp.

"So will you tell me how you and papa met, please? Was it love really love at first sight? 'Coz papa said he knew he loved you when he first saw you. Was it romantic too?"

"Nothing romantic I'm afraid unless you're Ironhide," Prowl chuckled and the full on laughed at the adorable puzzled look on Blue's face, an expression Prowl had seen on Jazz's faceplates every so often. There were _**some **_physical characteristics that were Jazz's - Prowl's favorite was Blue's smile, it always reminded him of Jazz. "I can tell you that yes, there was an instant attraction between Jazz and I. It was a cycle that my life changed for the better."

"We'd just lost Sentinel the orn before. The new Prime was still settling in. But already he'd earned the respect of many Autobots for his courage in battle and willingness to lay his life on the line for a fellow Autobot. Even though I worked in the tactical division, first lieutenant to Jackpot our CTO at the time, our forces were somewhat thin in Iacon. Because of my field experience from when I used to be in special ops, I volunteered for a recon mission just outside Kaon…"

_It'd been three cycles of recon. Prowl diligently gathered information from his hidden perch, his armor camouflaged to blend in with the debris riddled landscape. His form unmoving and silent. He still didn't see the target - Megatron. If they were to attack the base in the hopes of capturing the Decepticon leader then he'd better be there._

_But after three cycles Prowl was beginning to doubt the information he was given. It didn't appear as if Megatron was here. The Decepticons certainly didn't act like he was. Still, Prowl had his orders and for one more cycle he'd dutifully keep his optics zoomed in and take notes on his observations._

_He was about to retrieve his daily ration from subspace when his sensory wing panels picked up movement behind him and to the left. Keeping his calm, Prowl didn't flinch. His wing panels remained still, unwavering. Believe it or not that single act took vorns to master for a Praxian mech's wing panels seemed to have a mind of their own, always sweeping, flowing, fluttering._

_But not Prowl's. Never Prowl's. Not anymore._

_It was a mech creeping ever closer. The sensor reading gauged the mechanism's body temperature. It was higher by the allotted five degrees of an average femme. The closer he got the more information Prowl was able to detect with his wing panels alone._

_Spark rate slow and steady - this meant the mech was most likely a well trained assassin or saboteur._

_Footfalls were virtually silent as they moved patiently - this meant he was a well seasoned operative._

_Assassins and saboteurs were trained to be invisible to even the most sensitive of defense alert systems of a base or mechanism. Despite the disadvantage of them being a weakness in battle because they could easily be damaged wing panels could be more sensitive than any or all defense alert systems designed to detect stealth mechanisms. Especially if one honed their skills to the degree Prowl had done with his._

_Prowl doubted that this mech ever experience the defenses of a Praxian mech's wing panels._

_Spark rate increased._

_Air being sucked into the mech's vents._

_The quiet and quick unsheathing of a blade._

_All information cycled rapidly through to Prowl's battle computer and he reacted accordingly._

_He whirled around, hand reaching up and grabbing hold of his assailant's wrist, keeping the blade from coming near and doing any damage. In one swift and agile move, he used his attacker's moment against him and flung him to the ground hard. Prowl pounced, putting all his weight on the other mech while smashing the wrist he still held against the ground over and over and over until the hand opened up and the energon dagger fell._

_The tables turned, Prowl unsheathed his own blade and held against the visored mech's throat and his spark suddenly stilled as he took in the beautiful face beneath him. He found himself wondering if the mech's hidden optics were just as lovely, completing the already stunning look. However, Prowl who's always in control of his emotions, quickly shook the feeling off and pressed the blade ever so slightly into the mech's neck plating with a low growl._

"_Wow, yar good!" the mech grinned excited. "Yar the first mech to detect ma presence before I struck a killin' blow. Of course, I've never come across a Praxian out in the field. Didn't think yar types saw battle. Ya seemed more liked administrative work types, behind the scene too 'fraid to get ya servos dirty."_

_Prowl glared, unsure as to how to take that. He kind of felt insulted but wasn't sure as his processor was wandering again. His optics taking in the soft contours of the mech's face and how he wanted to caress those full lip components with his finger tips._

"_I wonder…just how experienced are ya," the visored black and white mech smirked._

_It was all the warning Prowl got._

_His reverie broken as he was abruptly launched from his perch by the smaller mech. Wing panels tucked, he expertly tumbled and rolled up onto his peds, quickly turning to face his opponent. Prowl berated himself for acting like an idle mechling with his first crush. Still, his optics roamed over the lithe mech's form looking for an insignia of his faction._

"_Very good," the smaller black and white mech praised, retrieving his dagger from the ground and returning it to its hidden location in his armor. "Ya've at least had some trainin' in Crystalocution. Not many can counter that move. Ya've got good body control too. Never seen a Praxian that could keep his wing panels so still before."_

"_I could say the same of you," Prowl finally spoke, not letting his guard down and trying not to take in by the mech's appealing form. "That's not an easy maneuver to make. It requires a lot of strength."_

"_Mech, I'm a masta."_

_Prowl snorted on reflex._

"_Are ya callin' me a liar?" the mech questioned, his tone dark._

"_If you were a master, I wouldn't have taken you down so easily," Prowl pointed out._

"_Alright. I'll give ya that. Ya did surprise the slag out of me. An' that's not easy to do. Not to me."_

"_I'll take that as a compliment."_

"_As it was intended. But don't let it get to ya possessor. I'm lethal."_

"_And I'm busy. So if we're going to duel it out then let's get it over with so I can get back to work."_

_The mech laughed heartily._

"_I like ya. Ya don't have time for bullslag. An' ya real handsome an' regal like too with how yar wings are held so high. Kind of like a seraph."_

_Prowl flustered, his door wing panels flicked nervously. He wasn't expecting that! Nor was he expecting his spark to flutter within its chamber when the mech stepped closer, inhabiting his personal space, smiling and literally gave Prowl the once over ever so slowly. The mech even dared to reach up and ghost as servo over one of Prowl's wings._

"_So beautiful," the mech whispered, making Prowl shudder._

_Honestly, this mech could kill Prowl at this very moment and almost couldn't give a frag as long as his dying vision was of that beautiful face._

"_Who are you?" Prowl whispered, noticing how the mech's spark rate increased as Prowl moved closer._

"_I'm just yar local saboteur," he smirked, revealing his Autobot emblem on his chest._

"_If you're an Autobot, why'd you attack me?" Prowl asked, narrowing his optics, forcing himself to take a step back._

"_I wasn't gonna hurt ya, honest. I figured by how ya'd respond it would tell me if ya were a 'Con or Autobot. Can't blame a mech for bein' cautious, can ya?"_

"_Still, there are other ways."_

"_Ya, but that way was more fun! Don't tell me ya didn't get a rush, holdin' that blade to my neck. Yar optics were on fire as ya stared down at me."_

_Prowl swallowed hard._

_An alarm suddenly reverberated loudly through the air._

"_Slag they found me!" Prowl and Jazz muttered at the same time. "They found you?"_

"_I suggest a hasty retreat!" Prowl exclaimed when the ground exploded nearby._

"_Ya'll get no arguments from me!"_

_Whether the mech was friend or foe, Prowl didn't care as they took off sprinting side by side across the debris ridden landscape. Both of them stride for stride zigzagged to and fro avoiding the hidden mines and Decepticon weapon's fire._

"_The extraction points this way, Prowl. Follow me."_

_Stunned that the mech knew his name, Prowl stumbled a few steps. The smaller black and white mech was quick to help steady the doorwinger._

"_How do you know my name?"_

"_Well, like I said, I'm a saboteur. I just happen to be on a mission plantin' explosives on the base ya were watchin'. I got a coded message to find ya an' get ya back safely to the base. It took me a full cycle to find yar cute lookin' aft."_

"_Woah!" Prowl yelped as he tripped and fell flat on his face, which was heated and probably bright red from the comment and not the fall!_

_The friendly saboteur laughed while helping Prowl to his feet, "I take it yar not used to compliments like that!"_

"_Honestly, I've never met a mech like you," Prowl chuckled as they took off running again._

"_Same here," he smirked glancing over at Prowl. "Anyways, yar needed back in Iacon immediately – the Prime's orders. I'm to keep ya safe 'til we reach the base."_

"_You call this keeping me safe?"_

"_Wait for it," the smaller black and white mech smirked._

_A few astroseconds went by before a huge explosion erupted behind them. Both mechs stopped and turned to see the enormous fireball bloom. Their pursuers stopped and immediately headed back to the base._

"_You wouldn't happen to know if Megatron was on that base?" Prowl asked, turning to face the saboteur._

"_Nah, I searched all over. He wasn't there," the mech frowned._

"_So do you have a name or should I just call you…master saboteur," Prowl joked._

"_Oh, yar good, mech. My name's…"_

_The moment happened so fast. Prowl's sensory panel picked up the incoming shot at the same time the blast rippled across the terrain. Reacting on instinct, based on the trajectory of the incoming shot, Prowl moved and yanked the saboteur out of the way, cutting him off mid sentence._

_An instant later searing white pain ripped through Prowl's left wing panel knocking to his knees. He looked over his shoulder and saw a hole in his wing panel the size of a fist. The pain was too much. Alert warnings flashed over his HUD. One by one his systems started shutting down._

"_Stay wit' me mech!" a voice said, a black hand smacking him in the face. "Prowl!"_

_Prowl lost consciousness while staring at that beautiful face, terrified he was probably never going to see it again._

"I went offline," Prowl explained to Bluestreak who was sitting there totally enthralled with his winglets perked up high. "The pain was too much."

"Then what happened? Was papa there holding your hand when you woke up?" Blue excitedly asked. "Did he kiss you to wake you up? Did you kiss him?"

"Actually, no he wasn't there when I came out of stasis. In fact, I was already back in Iacon. Ratchet said the medical bot from the base near Kaon put me into medical stasis because he didn't know how to repair doorwings. As to how I was rescued, or even who the name of the saboteur was all a mystery to Ratchet and more so to me."

"That's it! You didn't even get his name or anything? But…"

Prowl laughed, rubbing Blue's helm.

"Relax, Blue. I'm not finished with the story. It took me two cycles to recover from my injury. On the third cycle I was released from the medical bay and called to see the Prime…"

"_Thank you, Sir," Prowl said with a heavy spark as he looked around his commander and mentor's office. It was to be his office now. "I only wish it was under better circumstances that I achieved this position."_

"_I do as well," Optimus sighed. "Still, Jackpot highly recommended as his replacement if anything were to ever happened to him. I look forward to working with you…Commander Prowl."_

"_As I you, Prime," Prowl responded, bowing his head._

"_Very well, now I know you still have the cycle off, per Ratchet's orders. But I understand how dedicated you are and how you like to work efficiently. So, for today you have an assistant to help you pack up any of Jackpot's personal affects and move your own into the office."_

"_Sir, I…"_

_Optimus raised a hand, silencing Prowl._

"_It was the only way Ratchet would allow you to do this," Prime said._

"_Still, you shouldn't have to assign a mech to help me. I could have ask one of the staff."_

"_I didn't assign him. He volunteered."_

"_Oh. Then I will have to thank him, Sir. And thank you."_

"_You're welcome. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow for our morning briefing. You'll be officially introduced as my SIC to the other officers then, all of whom you already know. First order of business will be to assign the new batch of recruits and transfers to all the available positions we have open. Here's a data pad for you with all the pertinent information you need including backgrounds on each profile and the list of positions available."_

"_I thought I was ordered _**not**_ to work today, Sir," Prowl smirked, taking the data pad._

"_If you recall, I did comment on my knowing how dedicated you are. Mechs like us do not take cycles off even when ordered. Besides, I'm fully aware that Jackpot always delegated this particular duty to you because he hated to do it and you were too efficient as his assistant and he always had to give you extra work to keep you busy."_

_Prowl laughed fondly, "Yes, he often commented on me being too efficient. Still, I learned a lot from him. I will do my best to honor his teachings."_

"_I'm sure you will," Prime said as the door chimed. "Ah, that must be Jazz, your volunteer and one of the transfers you'll be finding a job for. I think if you check his dossier you'll find he'll be an excellent addition to your special ops division in tactical."_

"_Excellent, Sir. We lost too many good operatives this last orn," Prowl commented immediately pulling up Jazz's profile on the data pad. "It has been most difficult to replace them."_

_The door chimed again._

"_I'll let him in as I leave. Congratulations and don't work too hard this cycle or Ratchet will have my aft."_

"_I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen, Sir," Prowl said, making Prime laugh heartily, Prowl's optics already focused back on the datapad by the time Prime opened the door._

"_Go right in, Jazz. He's expecting you."_

"_Thank ya, Prime, Sir!"_

_Prowl's spark stilled upon hearing that voice. A voice he replayed in his processor over and over while recovering in the medical bay along with visions of the beautiful mech that came with it. Ever so slowly did he lift his gaze hoping his audio receptors weren't playing a trick on him._

"_Ya know, if I'd known ya were gonna be Prime's new second in command I would have taken better care of ya," Jazz warmly smiled, closing and locking the door. Then he slightly bowed his head. "But ya have my eternal gratitude for savin' my life."_

"_I'm sure I can say the same for you as you did get me out of there alive even though I was unconscious, __**Jazz**__," Prowl spoke, as the saboteur moved into Prowl's personal space. He heard a soft sigh escape from the short black and white mech._

"_Yeah, yar a lot heavier than ya look!" Jazz joked but then quickly turned serious, one servo reached to caress the injured wing panel. "And I'd do it again and again. Anything for my handsome, regal seraph."_

"_The feeling's mutual," Prowl murmured, datapad falling to the floor, both hands reaching to hold that beautiful face. He was rewarded with a loving smile as the visor retracted into the helm armor, revealing the most gorgeous pair of deep cobalt optics Prowl had ever seen. He literally gasped out loud. "Primus you're beautiful."_

"Did you kiss him? Did you kiss him?" Blue asking bouncing up and down excitedly on his father's lap.

"He most certainly did," Jazz answered from the doorway. "Yar father could never resist kissin' me."

"Papa!" Blue squealed, leaping from his father's lap and racing across the room.

"Hey li'l Blue. I missed ya this cycle," Jazz smiled, lifting up and holding his son close to his chassis.

"I missed you too!"

"Ya been a good li'l mech for yar father?"

"Mostly," Blue answered making both his parents laugh.

"He was good even during his bath, minimal amount of splashing on me," Prowl smiled fondly, making Blue giggle.

Then suddenly Blue yawned loudly.

"I see. Yar father should know better than to keep ya up past yar recharge time," Jazz said, throwing a mock glare at Prowl.

"He wanted to know how we first met," Prowl shrugged, following his bondmate into Blue's room. "I couldn't help but get swept away with the story as I told him."

"It was a wonderful story," Blue yawned, his optics starting to dim, small frame already relaxing as his systems started cycling down.

"I'm sure it was. G'night, sweetspark," Jazz whispered, kissing Blue's helm.

Bluestreak was already in recharge by the time his head hit the pillow.

"Goodnight, son," Prowl said, kissing Blue's forehead while covering him up.

Then Prowl took hold of Jazz's hand and led him out of the room. And once the door was shut his lips descended affectionately onto Jazz's.

"Hmm…definitely what I needed after this cycle's shift," Jazz hummed, allowing Prowl to lead him into their berth room. "Too bad I missed the story telling. How we met is one of my favorites."

"Its ok. You got back just in time for a re-enactment of the story's end," Prowl smirked.

"Only one problem, no desk in here."

"I'm sure we can improvise," Prowl said as the tumbled onto the berth.

"Good thing I came home when I did," Jazz grinned, snuggling beneath Prowl. "Can't have our son traumatized by the fact that his creators interfaced like horny petro bunnies before their first date!"

"But then we couldn't interface or see each other romantically for at least a couple of deca-cycles after that first cycle. The entire base would have thought you interfaced with me to get the position has head of special operations! A new position I came up with knowing it was time ops had their own department while still working close with tactical."

"I still remember the look on ya face when ya realized that fact," Jazz laughed. "Mech, that was classic!"

"Could you blame me?"

"No. But it was so fraggin' hard workin' wit' ya an' not bein' able to touch ya or acknowledge the love I felt fo ya 'coz of it. So, when I figured enough time had passed I asked ya out for a date when a lot of mechs were around. Ya're so cute an' adorable when ya get flustered, chokin' on yar energon."

"Hmm, yes, my embarrassment aside, I do recall our first date. What exactly did you tell Blue? Because I know our first date was spent in that shuttle adrift in orbit around the moon while I ravished you for joors."

"Well of course I couldn't tell Blue that's what happened on our first date. So I told 'im the events of our second date as if it was our first."

"Let's just hope he doesn't ask anyone else about our first date. The last thing I want is for his young mind to be corrupted."

"No, we can't have that," Jazz purred, pulling Prowl's face down for a deeply passionate kiss. "Now my handsome seraph…this beauty needs to be interfaced senseless."

"As you wish!"

"_Father, papa_?" Bluestreak suddenly called while knocking on their berthroom door.

"Don't stop, he should go right back to recharge," Jazz whispered. Prowl nodded and went back to nibbling on Jazz's neck. "What is it Blue?"

"_I was kind of a little thirsty for some energon. Just a tiny sip. But if you and father are busy interfacing I can wait. How long do you usually take_?" Blue asked through the door.

"Oh Primus," Jazz laughed.

"So much for trying to save his young mind! Stop laughing, I'm sure hearing it will only encourage him and make it worse!"

"Well, he is _**our**_ son and we're not innocent mechs," Jazz snorted, making Prowl roll his optics.

"Stay out there, Blue. I'll be there in a klick," Prowl shouted, trying to extract himself from Jazz's clinging limbs and grabbing servos.

"_Wow, that's fast, father! Is that some kind of record_?"

Jazz lost all control, laughing wildly at Blue's comment and at the mortified look on Prowl's face.

**The End.**


	24. Day Twentysix

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Finally for those who've been anxiously waiting and worrying, the continuation of prompt 21!

**Warnings**: tissues needed and I'm not joking

_The beating of my heart is a drum and it's lost and it's looking for a rhythm like you. You can take the darkness from the pit of the night and turn into beacon burning endlessly bright.. I gotta follow it 'cause everything I know, well it's nothing till I give it to you. - __**Making Love Out of Nothing At All by Air Supply **_(I normally don't use song quotes for oneshots but I felt compelled for this one)

* * *

**Day 26:** Regrets

Primus was watching over him and his sparkling. Jazz believed that. Otherwise he wouldn't be on a medical transport with Ratchet, Smokescreen, and Streetwise heading to Praxus. It couldn't have been a coincidence that Ratchet was called to help with the survivors while he was at Jazz's and Prowl's apartment and that he had room aboard the transport.

The news reports be damned. They didn't take into account the tenacity and determination of the Autobot Army. When Jazz and the others landed there was hundreds of injured laying around waiting for medical attention.

"Make sure he drinks his energon rations regularly and try not to let him wear himself out," Ratchet was telling the others as if Jazz wasn't there.

Physically Jazz was there. Mentally he was thinking ahead. Hopefully to a future where the sparkling he carried could be raised by _**both**_ its creators. A shaky future as he saw the devastation before him.

"From this point on…no more regrets," he told himself, soothing the heated chest plating over where the sparkling was nestled. "Whether he's truly alive or dead. No more regrets. I promise you."

"Let me do the talking," Streetwise said, getting no argument from Smokey or Jazz as they moved on. "The command center would be the best place to start. Ratchet already confirmed Prowl wasn't on the injury list."

"Then let's go," Jazz stated.

For about two joors he and Smokey followed Street around the base camp as the Enforcer asked his questions until they finally found some bot that could help them.

"Bumblebee!" the big red mech called Ironhide shouted.

Jazz turned to see a mech barely out of his younglinghood, racing over. Despite the devastation around them, the young yellow mech seemed cheerful. Obviously eager to do his part in the recovery operation.

"Yes, Sir?"

"That Enforcer you said you saw the other cycle in sector 3, grid 8, did he tell you his name?"

"No, Sir. He never said his name."

"Is this him?" Streetwise asked, showing the young Autobot a pic of Prowl.

"Oh yeah, that's him alright," Bumblebee smiled. "He said he was the first on the scene and had to see it through to the end."

"He was responsible for saving a least a dozen survivors or more before we even arrived," Ironhide solemnly said. "We'd spot him every so often bringing another survivor in and then he'd disappear again."

"I saw him a few joors ago heading back out," Bumblebee said.

"Where, which direction?" Jazz quickly asked.

"Sector 9. But he could be anywhere by now."

"Can you just point us, please?" Smokescreen begged.

"We can't let you out there, its too dangerous," Ironhide said. "Too many structures are unstable, contaminants leaking…besides, you don't want to see what's there."

"That's my brother and I _**need**_ to find him," Smokescreen begged.

"Please," Jazz pleaded. "He's my sparkmate...we intend to bond."

"I'm his partner and a good friend," Streetwise said when Ironhide glanced at him.

"Alright. Bumblebee, take them in a shuttle. Take any supplies you need with you. I doubt this Prowl has even had any energon since he arrived on scene," Ironhide ordered. "I know his type…dedicated enough to wear themselves into stasis if no one's there to make sure they recharge and re-energize."

"That's my brother."

"Thank ya, my friend," Jazz smiled.

Jazz's smiled faded quickly as they headed for the shuttle. He began to wonder. Was Prowl still angry at him? Will Prowl forgive him? Primus, how will Prowl handle the fact that he's going to be a father?

_**Somewhere in the devastated city of Praxus…**_

Prowl numbly staggered down the debris ridden slope. His optics focused on the ground. His sensory panels flared as wide as they could be scanning for any movement not his own. His audio receptors honed in, listening for any cries for help.

A part of him was still in denial. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. Praxus was all gone, wiped from existence.

And he'd witnessed it die in a matter of klicks with his own optics.

_Prowl had been driving slowly with the intention of heading back to Polyhex. His future with Jazz was uncertain. But if he returned and Jazz still wanted the bond called off then so be it._

_Only a blinding light that'd flashed so brightly in the night sky had made him stop. Curious, Prowl transformed and looked up into the sky. A few other mechs and femmes had also stopped looking to the sky as the phenomenon occurred again._

"_Primus look!" a femme screamed pointing towards Praxus._

_Prowl turned around…and couldn't believe his optics._

_Gigantic plumes of smoke and fire mushroomed higher than the tallest skyscrapers. Explosions thundered across the sky. The sounds of millions of mechs and femmes intermingled with the sounds of crystals and buildings shattering filled the night air._

"_Get the Autobots! Get anyone!" he ordered the bystanders as he transformed._

_Prowl activated his sirens and sped off. He was an Enforcer. It was his duty to serve and protect no matter the cost, no matter the situation, no matter the sacrifice._

_He raced towards the city he grew up in, the city he loved and had so many happy memories of his family and friends. The city where he had his first kiss in Helix Gardens when he was a teenage youngling. The city where he had his first interface during that monumental age when he was making the transition from youngling to mature mech. The city that one cycle he'd hope to return to with a family of his own._

_Whether it was fortune or fate, and explosion destroyed the bridge Prowl was traveling on. The blast wave lifted him up and threw him wildly through the air. When he landed he was knocked offline and kept safe from the devastation as it continued to unfold._

_When Prowl regained consciousness…Praxus was no more._

Prowl's reverie was snapped when his peds suddenly slipped and he lost his balance. He didn't even have the energy to keep himself from falling or cry out when he landed on his doorwing. Instead, he roughly slid and tumbled down the slope until he came to an abrupt stop.

Prowl shook his head and expelled dust out of his vents. As the dust settled his optics were able to make out something familiar in the rubble. A part of him knew what it was. A part of him didn't want to know. Another part of him needed confirmation.

So a tentative servo reached and brushed some of the dirt away.

A chocked sobbed escaped his vocal processor when the tiny hand was completely uncovered.

Tears streaked down Prowl's faceplates. Fingers trembled as they tenderly caressed the tiny stubby fingers. Desperation filled his spark. He sprang up to his knees. His vision blurred while frantic servos quickly uncovered the body of a tiny sparkling mech. The dulled small yellow chevron was completely broken on oneside and bent on the other. When he carefully extracted the small body from its tomb, he notice how the winglets were broken and torn…lifeless.

A torrent of emotions - anger, rage, doubt, fear, anguish - rocked his frame hard until Prowl released it in one primal cry while clutching the sparkling to his chest.

"**WHY?**"

"**WHY?"**

He screamed over and over, rocking back and forth. And when his vocal processor was so full of static he continually wept. He wept for the loss of the sparkling in his arms. He wept for the life this tiny mech would never have. He wept for all the sparkling and younglings that were denied their right to grow up and experience life. He wept for the families and generations of Praxians that were mercilessly obliterated from existence. He wept for a culture…a people that were now on the verge of extinction.

Surrounded by nothing but death and debris, Prowl was lost, drowning in his own mourning. He was beyond the point of exhaustion, barely hanging on to a thin strand of fading hope in the fading light of the cycle.

"Primus…_**please**_…" he wept, lying on his side, still holding the lifeless sparkling in weary arms. "If you're still up there…if you can hear me…if you still even care…help me."

There was no reply.

Prowl curled up, crying.

He wasn't really expecting a response. Why would he? Why would Primus care about a single mech when He'd let so many mechs, femmes, and sparklings die? Prowl wasn't any more important than the dead around him.

He fell into recharge never expecting to be saved.

"PROWL!"

Prowl jerked out of a deep recharge, optic covers blinking in confusion. He thought he heard a familiar voice.

"**PROWL!**"

Prowl moved to sit up and instantly regretted it as the piecing pain in his wing joints was nearly blinding.

"Hang on! It's too dangerous to go down that slope," some unknown mech's voice echoed down into the chasm.

"For frag's sake! He might need medical attention!"

"I've already got a medical shuttle on the way, Smokey. They'll also have the equipment to pull him out of there."

"No, Smokey, you can't go down there!" a fourth mech's voice exclaimed.

Street? What was his partner doing here?

"**PROWL!**" the familiar voice called again.

Grinding his denta, Prowl turned and looked up at the source of that voice calling his name.

"Jazz!" he called but he voice only came out like a whispered.

"Don't move from that spot, Jazz. Bumblebee thinks he might have something in the shuttle to help get Prowl out," Streetwise said.

Prowl blinked his optics a few times clearing his vision enough to see a lone mech standing on the rim. Dawn's first light was steadily rising, lighting the mech's face up for Prowl to clearly see.

Once again Prowl broke down into tears.

Jazz.

Jazz was his lifeline. His beacon of hope. His reason for living. His reason for loving.

It was during that moment when Prowl knew exactly what he had to do.

"You will not be forgotten little one," he whispered, carefully putting the sparkling's body down. "No one will be forgotten. Praxus will not be forgotten. Not while my spark is still burning deep within my chest. I promise."

With his optics focused on Jazz, Prowl ignored the pain, ignored how ridiculously steep the slope and simply made his ascent. With every scrape, claw, dig, push, and pull up the slope the anguish within his spark lessened. The closer and closer he got to Jazz the sooner he'd be able to keep his promise.

"Come on Prowl! You can make it!" Smokey and Streetwise cheered.

Prowl's footing slip and he started to slide back down. Growling he used what little strength he had, digging in his servos and peds until he was able to stop his descent.

"That's it babe, you can do it!" Jazz smiled through his tears, kneeling at the edge, reaching down even though Prowl was still too far down.

With a grunt and his optics still focused on Jazz, Prowl lurched upward, increasing his pace knowing his energy reserves were nearly depleted. Climbing. Hoping. Striving. Living for all those who were now gone. He carried them and would carry them within his spark just as he'd promised. Reaching for his future. Leaving behind his old life. Life was too precious to dwell on past mistakes or regrets and he made his fair share of them throughout the course of his life. Mistakes and Regrets that only serve to cast a shadow on the future. A future now that was becoming brighter and brighter as Prowl was getting closer and closer to Jazz.

A future that he was not to be denied.

"Here! Grab on to this!" a yellow mech shouted and tossed down a cable of some sorts. Prowl weakly grabbed hold of it, snaking it around his forearm. "Smokey, Street, help me pull him up."

Within a matter of astroseconds they'd pulled Prowl up and over the rim. Exhaust and on the verge of shutting down, Prowl some how got to his peds. He staggered a couple of steps before he lunged for the small black and white mech, throwing anxious arms that ached so badly yet still had enough strength to cling to the mech he loved so much.

"Jazz!" he wept, ignoring the pain in his vocal process, reveling in the scent of his love.

Exhaustion finally won a small victory, knocking Prowl to his knees. He collapsed pulling down Jazz with him, tightening his arms around the smaller mech so tightly that Jazz yelped in pain.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for the fight we had, for leaving you the way I did," he whispered, desperately kissing the smaller mech's face over and over with tears streaming down his face until he finally kissed Jazz on the lips, lovingly, deeply. Ever so gently did he break the kiss and look directly into Jazz's optics caressing his love's face. "I've so many regrets in my life Jazz. I don't want you to ever be one of them. I love you too much. I won't ever risk losing you again. Not ever."

"I'm the one who should be apologizin' for what I said to ya," Jazz wept, clinging to Prowl. "I almost lost ya because of it."

"None of that matters now my beautiful Jazz. It's in the past. We start anew. No regrets. There's too much for us to live for to have any regrets."

"I agree. No regrets," Jazz wept, leaning into Prowl's tender kisses. "And we do have so much to live for, especially now with what I have to tell ya. Prowl, I'm…"

Prowl silenced Jazz with a kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into it, leaving Jazz with no doubts. Their fight was forgiven and forgotten. Only the future mattered now. A brighter future with them together.

**TBC…**


	25. Day Twentyseven

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Continued fic from prompts 15 & 17. This takes place well into Prowl and Jazz's future. So sorry, no sparkling cuteness in this fic. However, if persuaded I may do a fic showing them as they grow up in connection to prompts 15, 17 and this one.

* * *

**Day 27**: "I didn't expect you to take it literally!"

Prowl burst through the front door of his parent's domicile and he tore up the stairs and through the hallways into his old room, ignoring his parent's calls. His vents and leg joints burned from the exertion it took to run from the Academy all the way home. His spark ached so bad that it made his tank churn and seemed on the verge of ejecting its contents. His winglets trembled and shook lying flat on his back.

He felt like his life was unraveling and he couldn't do anything about it.

"Prowl?" Barricade called softly from the doorway. "Son, please, I can feel the turmoil in your spark."

"Sweet spark," Pantera said, her voice full of worry. "Please, talk to us. We've been worried for a joor now. Your roommate said you packed up your things and left when we called."

The bag Prowl's been carrying fell to the floor as he burst into tears. His parent's arms were around him in an astrosecond. Waves of comforting love and reassurance flowed over their family bond. Prowl continually cried on his mother's shoulder as they all sat down together on his old berth.

"What happened, my son?" Barricade asked, wiping Prowl's tears away.

"Jazz and I had a fight," Prowl sniffled. "A bad one. Worse than usual."

"Did you hit him or did he hit you first?" Barricade asked, the back of his finger caressing the bruised dent on Prowl's nose plating.

"I would never raise a hand to him no matter how angry he made me!"

"Prowl…"

"No, Tera. Let Prowl finish," Barricade insisted. "Start from the beginning, son. Earlier in the cycle I felt this joy I'd never felt from you before."

Prowl sniffled, wiping his tears away and took a few moments to gather himself.

"I asked Jazz to bond with me. I thought he was ready. I felt confident he loved me enough to want what I wanted. I guess I was wrong. He said I was suffocating him, not giving him his freedom. I _**always**_ respected him. I often let him go out with his friends to go to those dance clubs he loves while I stayed and studied. If he was late meeting with me I never got mad. That was just Jazz being Jazz. Punctuality doesn't exist in Jazz's world."

Prowl paused, tears building back up and falling fast.

"I got mad. Told him to stop being so selfish. I asked him what the frag he was afraid of and told him to grow up. He punched me in the face. He said he didn't want to see me again…ever."

"So you just quit and walked away?" Pantera asked.

"You weren't there mother!" Prowl yelled, jerking away from his parent's arms. "You didn't see the look on his face or hear the tone of his voice! He said he never wanted to see me again. EVER!"

"Prowl, calm down right now," Barricade calmly said, rising to his feet.

"I just have to get out of here," Prowl wept. "It hurts too much to be here. Everything here reminds me of him. I just can't be here any longer. Please, let me go. I just came here to pack a few things and to tell you I was leaving."

"Go where?" Pantera asked concerned. "For how long?"

"Tera, no. Prowl's right. He needs to get away. It's time he and Jazz need some space. I know it's not our place to interfere in their personal lives but sometimes taking a step away opens the optics up, you see things more clearly."

"But…"

"Trust me love and have no fear. Prowl is our son. He'll go to Praxus," Barricade answered. "Smokescreen and Blue are there. Plus, I still know a few mechs from the service there, all of whom I've been in contact ever since we moved to Polyhex. A few of them have retired and moved on to new careers. I'm positive one of them will have a job waiting for you. Just give me a few klicks to make the arrangements."

"Father, I can find my own way."

"I know you can," Barricade smiled, caressing Prowl's helm. "You've always been so determined, so strong, so independent. You've always known what you wanted to do, more so than your brothers. Please, allow the old mech this one luxury for his youngest sparked."

"Very well, father," Prowl smiled, humbly bowing his head.

"I'll be right back," Barricade said, kissing his son's helm before he left.

"I'll help you pack," Pantera smiled warmly, picking up Prowl's bag off the floor.

"Mother…" Prowl said, feeling as if his spark was breaking. He could feel his mother's fear for him, her love for him. He knew she was going to be the hardest thing to leave behind but he couldn't go without telling her how much he loved her and was grateful for everything she'd ever done for him.

"Your father's right about you," she smiled, smoothing tender fingers over his bright red chevron. Prowl purred contently, remembering how she often soothed him in such a manner whenever he was upset. "You were always so shy when you were little. As your mother its hard to let go of that. I was always your protector when you were afraid or when you were upset and in tears. Then you met Jazz and you found your way, found your own confidence as you grew up. I was so proud to watch you grow up into the young mech you are this cycle. And I will still be proud of you no matter what the future holds."

"Thanks, mother," Prowl said, hugging his mother close, resting his helm on top of hers. "If it's any consolation…you are still my protector. What happened this cycle was proof. I knew I could come home for yours and father's help. I couldn't leave you without an explanation or without telling you how much you mean to me."

"And we are always glad to help our sons," she smiled, caressing his strong facial features.

"Everything's settled," Barricade said, stepping back into the room. "Smokey and Blue will pick you up at the transport station in Praxus. Smokey says he has a spare room and that you can stay with him until you get your peds under you. Apparently, Blue could use some help at the store he runs. It's quite popular from what I understand but he was never good with figures and calculations. No pressure only if you want to or for ever how long you feel is necessary."

"When does he leave?" Pantera asked.

"The next transport for Praxus leaves in a joor."

"Then let's get him packed. I want to see my youngest son off before his trip."

"As do I my love, as do I," Barricade said, pulling both Prowl and Pantera into a hug.

Fifteen klicks later the family left the domicile and headed to the transport station. Prowl remained quiet, solemn. He grew up here in Polyhex. There was no denying that he was going to miss the city. He was going to miss his parents, his friends.

It's just that his emotions were too raw, every street corner, energon shop, entertainment club reminded Prowl of Jazz. They have been in each other's lives one way or another ever since that cycle they'd met on the beach. Friends as close as brothers, always there looking out for each other, always there to lend a servo when the other needed it.

When they were younger it was always Jazz who protected Prowl, especially at school. Because of Prowl's doorwings he got picked on and teased often. But Prowl had always known that if he and Jazz were together they could accomplish anything.

Then as they became teenagers Prowl sprouted, growing to be taller and bigger than Jazz, he became Jazz's protector. No one picked on him anymore because he gave as good as he got. And Jazz was always at his side, cheering him on.

It was after one particularly bad fight Jazz had gotten into while at school. Prowl had been talking adamantly with one of his professors when the fight broke out. Only by the time he realized what was going on it was too late. Jazz had been injured badly.

It was a pivotal moment in Prowl's life. The moment he realized he was in love with his best friend. As he carried Jazz's injured and unconscious body to the school's infirmary Prowl swore he'd do his best to protect Jazz better.

Ever the observant one, Jazz noticed the change in Prowl and questioned him about it. Prowl being an honest mech, spoke from his spark despite his fear of possibly pushing Jazz away. To his surprise, his feelings were reciprocated. Jazz was just too afraid of acting on them when he realized he was in love with Prowl.

Neither wanted to lose their friendship.

Prowl could sometimes feel their first kiss when he replayed the memory of him and Jazz under the stars that night they'd talked their feelings. He could still smile at how nervous and scared they both were when they interfaced for the first time ever. Luckily for them, Jazz's parents had gone out of town giving them the privacy and time. Prowl could still laugh at the memory of that shocked look on Jazz's faceplates when he had a hard time cleaning up all the stains the lubricant left on his parents berth.

The relationship wasn't rock solid like their parents. After all, they were still so young. Some cycles it was volatile. They'd have heated arguments or the silliest of things. Prowl could swear Jazz enjoyed making Prowl mad just so when they got back together, forgiving each other with their kisses and passionate interfacing. Prowl would be one of the first to admit that make up interfacing was some of the best for him. His emotions flowed more freely.

No matter how pissed at each other they got they always found that middle ground and got back together.

But now Prowl didn't see how to fix this problem. It hurt his spark so much to think of a life without Jazz.

"There's your transport," Barricade said, putting an arm around Prowl's shoulders, pulling him out of his reminiscing. "I will always be proud of the things you do my son. Always."

"Thanks father," Prowl smiled, standing optic to optic with the one mech he loved more than his brothers and Jazz. It was difficult to not cry when he own father had tears in his optics. "I'm going to miss you and mother so much."

"It's time for you to live your own life, Prowl," Pantera smiled through her tears. "One cycle even have a family of your own."

"Your mother is obsessed with wanting grandsparklings," Barricade smirked.

Prowl nervously laughed.

"Here, take this."

"Father, I have my own credits."

"I know. Save your credits for when you find a place of your own."

"Very well," Prowl smiled, lips trembling as the tears started falling fast. "Father…I…there are no words."

"Sometimes we don't need words. I feel your love in my spark, Prowl. That is all I need."

"We both do," Pantera added, joining in the hug. "Take care. Call us when you arrive."

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call us. You can even call me when I'm at work if it's so important. I always have time for my sons."

"Thank you father. I will. Good bye."

"Good bye," his mother wept, reluctantly letting him go.

For the first time in so long, Prowl was scared. That shy little sparkling almost made him turn back and run into his parents arms. The mech in him won out, opting for a window seat where he could wave at his parents, smiling through his tears.

_**Three cycles later…**_

Jazz was going nuts.

He blew off his classes for the cycle to look for Prowl. He hadn't seen the Praxian in three cycles on campus. Not that, that was anything to worry about. After all, they'd gone longer apart after a fight. Jazz knew to give the mech some space but still they'd at least spot each every so often until one of them swallowed their pride and apologized.

Only Jazz had a queasy feeling in his tanks. His spark ached over what he said and twisted with guilt every time he replayed the argument over in his processor. He knew he was in the wrong and he knew he was the one to have to apologize first. But it was hard to do when he couldn't find the mech!

Finally Jazz had enough and just went over and waited outside Prowl's dormitory room until he or his roommate returned. Jazz lived off campus with a few friends and tried to get Prowl to move in with him. Only Prowl was stubborn and had study habits that he couldn't follow in such an uncontrolled environment. Besides, it was nice whenever Jazz wanted some quiet time he'd spend the night with Prowl in his dorm room.

After waiting half a cycle, it was Prowl's roommate that showed up first.

"Hey Jazz, what's up?"

"Not much. I was just waitin' for Prowl. Have ya seen 'im? We had a fight a few cycles ago. Ya know how it is between us. I gotta let 'im cool of sometimes. But we need to set thin's right."

"You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Jazz, Prowl dropped out of school and quit his job. Last I saw him he'd just finished packing his things and then left after saying goodbye."

"Oh," Jazz gasped and his tank plummeted to his ankles. "Thanks, mech."

"You don't look so good. Are you going to be alright?"

Jazz staggered down the hallway, tank rumbling, spark twisting with guilt. What had he done? More importantly, where did Prowl go? At least that answer was simple - home.

Jazz took off running. Once outside he transformed and raced through campus. His engine revved as high as it could go and didn't care if he was going to exhaust himself. He _**had**_ to get back home. Or to Prowl's home which was next door to his parent's house.

Both homes were like his home and Prowl's. Not a cycle went by where they weren't together in one domicile or the other while growing up. Jazz couldn't think of a cycle where Prowl wasn't in his life. Prowl was his life. And in a moment of stupidity Jazz threw that life away.

Jazz prayed that he could fix it. He couldn't imagine his life without Prowl.

So, the first door Jazz ran to was 'Cade and Tera's domicile.

All for not. The door was locked. The lights were off save the outside light. Which meant that Prowl's parents weren't home.

Desperate tears streamed down Jazz's faceplates as he hurried over to his parent's home.

"Mama! Papa!" he called.

"In here, Jazz," his mother's voice sang out from the kitchen.

Jazz rushed, stumbling slightly from his frantic peds.

"Primus, Jazz!" Downshift exclaimed being the first to spot his son's disheveled state.

"Jazz, sweet spark, what happened?" Sonata asked, quickly talking her youngest sparked into her arms.

.

"Mama, papa…I…I really fragged up," Jazz choked and sobbed. "I said somethin' I regret an' now he's gone. I can't find 'im anywhere!"

"Who's gone?" she asked. "What happened?"

"Prowl. He dropped out of school an' quit his job! He's gone!"

"Deep breaths, Jazz," his father said, rubbing Jazz's sensory horn. "Relax. Then tell us from the beginning'. What'd ya fight about this time?"

Jazz vented a shuttering breath, doing his best to relax. It helped that father rubbed one of his horns. Mother used to always do that whenever he got overly excited and upset.

"Three cycles ago, Prowl came over, said he had somethin' important to talk about. When he showed up he had the biggest grin on his faceplates I'd ever seen. It was kind o' scary. Then he surprised me wit' a gift…a bondin' gift. He asked me to bond wit' 'im. I wasn't expectin' that an' I kind o' didn't answer right way. He asked me again an' I…I overreacted. He got mad at me told me to stop bein' so selfish. I got mad back. We got into this full blown argument. I punched 'im in the face an' told 'im I never wanted to see 'im again. But it's not true. I love 'im. Now he's gone and I don't know what to do!"

"You have to tell him how you feel, baby," Sonata said, wiping his tears away.

"How can I when I can't even find 'im? I don't even know where he went," Jazz sniffled, leaning into his mother's arms.

"'Cade gave me this for when ya came to yar senses," Downshift said putting a data card and data file on the table. "It's the address where Prowl's stayin' an' a ticket for the transport."

Jazz grabbed the ticket and read the destination.

"Praxus?" Jazz asked.

"He was sparked there," Shift said. "'Cade said, Smokey an' Blue are lookin' after 'im."

"How do ya know all this?" Jazz asked, stunned.

"Because Prowl came to us and in the traditional Praxian courtship manners asked us for permission if he could bond with you. He even gave us an official Praxian bonding gift that he hand crafted himself just like the one he crafted for you," Sonata explained.

Jazz grabbed his chest. His guilt increased exponentially upon hearing that Prowl actually crafted the bonding gift. Jazz knew Prowl too well. Whenever it was something extremely important to Prowl he poured all of his love and devotion into something.

"I had my reservations but he was so sincere about his love for ya that I was touched," Shift continued. "I couldn't say no. So we gave 'im our blessin'"

"Which I pissed away," Jazz spat.

"Jazz, ya're young. Ya're gonna make mistakes. A mech is not measured by the mistakes he makes. He's measure by how he deals wit' those mistakes an' moves on. Jazz, ya're my son. Ya're a fighter. Ya always go after what ya want and take it. But ya also react on ya emotions just like yar mother," Shift smirked.

"Thanks, papa. I know what I gotta do."

"Better hurry, next transport for Praxus leaves in twenty klicks," his father smiled.

Less than three klicks later, Jazz had packed a bag, kissed his parents goodbye, and was racing to the transport station. He barely made it. But Jazz was not to be denied. He knew exactly what he had to do to set things right.

_**Several joors later…Praxus…**_

Prowl laid on his berth staring out the window as the two moons were now high in the night sky. Once again, his spark was restless. He couldn't recharge. The fourth cycle since he and Jazz last saw each other was coming up and Prowl still missed the mech. His touch. His smile. His laugh. The little jokes that made Prowl laugh.

Smokey and Blue did their best to cheer him up. But nothing could lift Prowl's depression. Nothing could replace the void that Jazz once filled. Still, Prowl appreciated everything his brothers did for him. They allowed him to tell them in his own time what'd happened. Even jokingly offered to beat some sense into Jazz for blowing the best thing he had.

A heavy sigh escaped him. He knew he couldn't be idle for too much longer. He had some important decisions to make about his life here in Praxus. He even met a few of father's friends. After hearing them talk Prowl was seriously considering enrolling at the Enforcer's Academy where his father had attended.

The apartment's door chime suddenly sounded interrupting Prowl's thoughts.

He remained motionless on his berth. Smokescreen was still up playing card games with his friends. Even Bluestreak was playing although he didn't seem to have the gambling knack that Smokey had. But then Blue had enough sense to know when to stop before he lost too many credits.

"_What the slag are you doing here?_"

"_I know he's here, Smokey. I gotta talk to him. __**Please**__!_"

Prowl sat up recognizing Jazz's voice.

"_I don't think I want you talking to my little brother! Get out!_"

"_Smokey, don't_!" Bluestreak yelled.

Prowl jumped to his peds when he heard the commotion of mechs yelling and furniture getting shoved around. He arrived in the main living room of Smokey's apartment just as his eldest brother threw a hard fist at Jazz's face, cracking the smaller mech's visor. The visor dimmed and sparked, making Jazz cry out in pain as he frantically yanked it off.

"**Enough!**" Prowl snapped, his doorwing rising to make himself appear bigger or bigger than he already was as he had matured to be taller than both his brothers. "Blue, grab Jazz's bag, take it to my room. Someone, get the medical kit please."

"Prowl, he doesn't deserve…"

"It's not your call to make, Smokey. Jazz came here to talk and I will let him. I'm very interested to hear what he has to say," Prowl coolly said, moving into the room. He stared down everyone for a moment before moving to kneel before Jazz. "Take my arm, Jazz."

Jazz's dimmed optics shifted, looking for where Prowl's arm would be. Prowl helped by slipping his forearm under Jazz's hand. Then he helped the small mech to his peds and led him out of the room.

"Ok, Prowl. I even put a medical kit on your bed," Bluestreak smiled. "Anything else, enegon perhaps."

"Thanks Blue," Prowl acknowledged. "We'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning."

'Good luck, brother,' Blue said over their bond.

Prowl nodded at Blue before shutting the door.

"Prowl…I…" Jazz started.

"Let me tend to your injury first and then we'll talk," Prowl said, helping Jazz sit on the berth. "Let me see your visor. Hmm…I'm afraid it's beyond my ability to repair. You didn't happen to pack your spare did you?"

"I was kind of in a rush. Bu Mama made sure I had what I needed before I left."

"Ah, there's hope yet," Prowl said, opening one of the side compartments of Jazz's bag. "She packed it. I swear Jazz there are times your head would be lost if it wasn't attached to your neck. Now, keep your head still while I apply some ointment to the burn."

"Is it bad?"

"No. Your self repair systems should take care of it in no time."

Jazz hissed when Prowl carefully applied the ointment.

"Ow mech!"

"Stop being a sparkling."

"Are ya done yet? It fraggin stings."

"Yes, I'm done," Prowl replied, putting Jazz's spare visor in the mech's hand. Then he moved across the room and sat in the chair there, watching as Jazz put his visor on. Prowl waited until it flashed on before he spoke. "So, I'm listening."

"Yar mad at me. I can tell. An' ya have every right to be. I deserve it. But why'd ya have to come all the way to Praxus?"

"You said you never wanted to see me again. So I left," Prowl replied calmly, shrugging a shoulder.

"I didn't expect you to take it literally!"

"How the frag was I supposed to take it, Jazz!" Prowl yelled getting to his feet, doorwings flared out. "You punched me in the face. Broke my nose plating and yelled that you didn't want to see me again…EVER!"

"I didn't mean it, Prowler," Jazz wept.

"Then why'd you say it?"

"Because ya scared the slag out of me!" Jazz screamed, standing before the Praxian. "I wasn't expectin' ya to ask me to bond wit' ya an' it terrified me. I know the kind of mech ya are Prowl. Ya don't make hasty decisions. Ya think things through before ya act. So I knew how much askin' me to bond with ya meant to ya."

"Why didn't you just tell me all this before?" Prowl asked, taking hold of Jazz's hand.

"Come on mech, ya know me," Jazz smirked through his tears. "When do I not overreact to things?"

"I was expecting an overreaction, just not the one that happened."

"I'm sorry, babe," Jazz whispered, caressing Prowl's face. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drive ya away. I didn't mean to hurt yar feelin's like that. It made me sick to my tank when I couldn't find ya. I knew I fragged up an' wanted to make it right. An' now I'm here, to tell you I'm sorry and that I love ya so much. Ya're my life. I don't wanna lose ya."

"Jazz," Prowl whimpered, wrapping his arms around the smaller mech, burying his face in Jazz's neck. "I love you so much too. I can't imagine my life without you either."

"I thought really hard about what I really want on the transport over here," Jazz seriously said, taking Prowl's face in his hands. "I know what I want. I wanna bond with ya."

Prowl felt his spark skip a pulse.

"You mean that?" Prowl hesitantly asked.

"Yes, I do. Let's do it right now."

"What?" Prowl exclaimed, doorwings trembling with fright.

Jazz laughed, "Gotcha!"

"You aft."

"Ya should have seen that look on yar faceplates!" Jazz continued laughing.

Prowl growled, tackling Jazz onto the berth, pinning the mech down with his weight.

"It's my turn to apologize," he seriously said, caressing Jazz's sensory horn. "I too said some things I didn't mean. I know you are a mature mech who at times just chooses not to be when the moment warrants it. I pray you never lose that gift Jazz for making mechs and femmes laugh…for making me take a step back and not take things too seriously as I tend to do."

"Hmm," Jazz moaned, leaning into Prowl's affections. "I can do that. As long as ya continue to keep me grounded when I overreact."

"I can do that," Prowl mumbled as he kissed Jazz fully on the lips.

"Ya think ya brothers would mind if I got a li'l noisy while yar bangin' my bolts like there's no tomorrow?"

"They're not going to have a choice. I locked the door," Prowl smirked. "It's encrypted. Only I know the code."

"That's my Prowler, always thinkin' ahead."

**The End**


	26. Day Twentytwo

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** Special thanks to Dr. Oblivion, one of my readers on FFN and a guru for TF lore and trivia. I asked a few of my readers to throw me ideas on this one because I didn't want to do the obvious. And Doc delivered an idea that sparked my brain into remembering a certain SciFi episode from one of my favorite series! If there are any Stargate Atlantis fans out there, this one's for you - I'm sure as you read you'll recognized the episode that inspired my muse. I will not name it unless someone asks and it will be in a PM or something. I don't want to give anything away. And special thanks to prancingtiger for giving part of a fic a test run. Thanks you guys.

Also, this is meant for laughs. So a few mechs may be slightly out of character for comedy's sake. Let the mayhem begin!

"words" normal dialogue, "_words_" communications dialogue, '_words_' internal dialogue

* * *

**Day 22**: When two become one

"Report," Optimus ordered as his CMO joined him in stride at the hallway intersection.

"We're lucky we didn't lose anyone but they'll be offline for repairs for a better part of the deca-cycle. Honestly, Optimus what the slag were you thinking allowing Wheeljack's to continue with another one of his cockamamie projects? Or do you just enjoy tormenting me?"

"Because he is brilliant, even if he is a bit accident prone. And I do need my CMO kept in top form even if he feels like its torture."

"Pfft! Well next time, limit the number of his senior staff he can use for an experiment or else next time more than a building might be destroyed."

"Duly noted."

"Which now brings me to the next lapse in judgment of yours…are you totally insane?"

"Lapse in judgment?"

"I can't believe you sent those two on a mission. _**Together!**_," Ratchet exclaimed. "They hate each other with a _**passion**_. Not a cycle goes by when they're not having a screaming competition over a mission in the war room."

"I admit I have my doubts," Optimus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as they came to a stop at a door. "However, I need _**all**_ my officers, especially my second and third in command, on the same datafile. If forcing them to come to some sort of compromise by having them as partners on every mission from this cycle forward then so be it. We cannot afford to lose Prowl because of his battle plans and defense strategies. The mech is almost single handedly keeping the Autobot army from collapsing into defeat. Nor can we afford to lose the top saboteur and infiltrator this army has ever seen. The intel he gets is as important and essential to Prowl's tactical plans."

"I still say you're insane," Ratchet huffed. "Everyone thought Prowl was this emotionless drone until Jazz came along. Honestly, I never saw a bot turn that bright red from anger."

Optimus rolled his optics palming the door's control panel.

"Still, it's a good thing I came with you," the CMO smirked. "The two might have come to blows and damaged themselves."

The door opened and Optimus allowed himself a quiet chuckle as they entered the Trans-warp Gate Room.

"Optimus, Sir, Prowl and Jazz should be arriving on schedule, Sir," Hot Shot saluted.

"Relax kid you're gonna crack a bolt or something," Jetfire remarked.

"Is that before or after you corrupt his young processor?" Optimus countered, folding his arms across his wide chest.

"And they say you have no sense of humor," Jetfire grinned and then turned his attention to Ratchet.

"Don't even say anything nimbrod!" Ratchet growled, making Jetfire chuckled.

"Sir, message coming in from the SIC!" Hot Shot announced.

"Let's here it on the speakers," Jetfire ordered, slipping into his usual Flight Commander persona.

"_This is Prowl, we're coming under heavy enemy fire! Seekers! I'm requesting that the Trans-warp Gate be activated immediately for emergency extraction!_"

"_An' he means now!_" Jazz added with the sounds of explosions going of in rapid succession in the background.

"Confirmed. Six Decepticons bearing down on their location, Sir!" Hot Shot exclaimed with Optimus and Ratchet close behind him watching the monitor showing the Autobot and Decepticon energy signatures.

"You need to get clear of their weapons fire. Then I can warp you back to base," Jetfire said.

"_Understood_," Prowl replied.

"_This is fragging brilliant_!" Jazz remarked. "_Got any idea, genius?_"

"_I always have ideas. Are you actually going to listen to one for once?_"

"Focus, mechs, that's an order!" Optimus barked before the explosive due got into another heated argument.

"_Yes, Sir_!" the SIC and TIC promptly responded.

"_There_…"

"_I see it!_" Jazz responded.

"_GO!_"

"They're moving out of range, Sir."

"The Decepticons on circling around for their next assault. Now's our chance!" Jetfire pointed out.

"Do it," Optimus ordered watching with great anticipation.

"Prowl Jazz, hold your positions! Activating the warp gate now!" Jetfire announced and then activated the device.

They all watched with anticipation as the Trans-warp Gate's power levels efficiency climbed rapidly to one hundred percent.

"Beginning extraction," Jetfire said activating another switch.

"Seekers closing in!" Hot Shot exclaimed. "They're priming weapons!"

"Just a another couple of astroseconds!" Jetfire growled.

"They're firing!"

"Got them!" Jetfire announced a moment later and just before he could hit the final switched the main console sparked causing the mechs the jump back. "Oh slag! Power levels rising!"

"What's that mean?" Ratchet asked.

"Get down!" Optimus ordered, knocking all three mechs to the ground and shielding them just as the main console exploded.

The room's fire control systems immediately activated siphoning out the smoke and extinguishing the fires.

"This is not my deca-cycle," Ratchet groaned as flame retardant rained down from the ceiling. "Jetfire! Get your heavy aft off me!"

"Oh, sorry, Ratchet," Optimus said, rising up to his feet.

"Optimus!"

"I'm ok, Magnus. Everyone's alright."

"The explosion set off all the base alarms_._ I just happened to be in the area."

"We're all in one piece…relatively," Optimus replied glancing at an angry CMO. "Do you know if Prowl and Jazz still out there?"

"Systems down, cant see slag right now," Jetfire frowned, waving some smoke away front the dark control panel.

"Negative," Magnus chimed in. "Red Alert informed me their energy signatures vanished just before the alarms sounded."

"Told you I got them," Jetfire smirked but then his smirk faded looking at the main console.

"But how do we get them rematerialized? The controls are destroyed," Hot Shot pointed out.

"Just get Wheeljack and his crew in here, we'll have Prowl and Jazz up in no time," Jetfire smiled. Ratchet groaned loudly covering his optics. "What?"

"Magnus, send whatever Engineer staff is available as well as Perceptor from Science Division to the Trans-warp Room. Let's see if they can find out what caused the power surge and how to get back my mechs."

"As you wish, Sir."

A joor later Optimus was wishing he was the one MIA in cyberspace or wherever Prowl and Jazz went to. There was only so much scientific jargon that the Prime could endure from Perceptor or any scientist or engineer for that matter.

"Perceptor, I don't need a scientific lesson on transwarp theories. I just need to know what happened and how we can fix it," Optimus demanded, distinctly hearing Ratchet's whispered 'thank Primus' from behind him.

"Right, my apologies, Sir. I'm not an expert on the Trans-warp gate technology. What I have been able to conclude is loosely based on the data available…"

"For pits sake, spit it out already!" Ratchet roared.

"And excessive amount of radiation at the event horizon of the trans-warp field cause a feed-back of energy on the receiving end. So basically the excess energy built up to rapidly and could not be dispersed properly resulting in the explosion."

"So where are Prowl and Jazz?" Jetfire asked. "I know I retrieved their energy signals."

"For that, I'll let Skyfall explain," Perceptor said, indicating to the red and gold mech tinkering on the gate console. "He's a weapons engineer but is the closet thing to an expert we have until Wheeljack's team are all back online."

"As far as I can tell there are two energy signatures being stored in this warp gate's buffer," Skyfall explained, pulling up two energy blips on a hand held monitor that was plugged into the buffer. "The buffer temporarily stores the information until a command is sent to the interface drive to rematerialize the energy signatures."

"Excellent, command it to rematerialize Prowl and Jazz," Ratchet suggested.

"It's not that simple, Sir," Skyfall continued. "The interface drive's energy coils were damaged. It would take a deca-cycle alone to repair them. And because of the metallic refinery process required to make them it would take even longer to build a new one. Alternative power sources are useless as the energy coils are specific for trans-warp gate technology only. They have to be specifically calibrated. A marginal error you'd warp back inside out or in pieces."

"Ouch!" Jetfire commented.

"As of right now, there is only enough energy in the system to rematerialize one of them," Skyfall said.

"Then rematerialize Prowl," Optimus ordered. "I need my SIC for this briefing with the base commanders later this cycle."

"I'm sorry, Sir. Perhaps, I wasn't clear. There's no way to tell Prowl from Jazz. They only read as energy signatures," Skyfall said, showing Optimus the monitor.

"Frag," Optimus muttered under his breath. "Very well. Rematerialize that one."

"Of course, Sir. If everyone will stay back please."

Once everyone was out of the way, Skyfall sent the command. The console lit up dimly. There was a distinct popping noise in everyone's audio receptors and the warp field formed in the designated area. The field expanded and then collapsed, leaving a single black and white figure standing there, staring at them.

"Prowl?" Optimus called.

The tactician cocked his head to one side briefly before his optics offlined and he fell over onto his side.

"Perfect!" Ratchet griped, rushing to the SIC's side. "Why can't anything ever be easy around here?"

Typical of them all, no one replied to the irritable medic for fear he'd hit them in the head with a wrench. Not even the Prime was brave enough to reply and quickly made an exit, ordering Ultra Magnus to keep him posted.

_**Two joors later, medical bay…**_

Prowl onlined slowly, reluctantly. Everything ached. _**Everything**_. Even his optics because he instantly regretted activating them as the lights above were obscenely bright. He groaned covering his optics until they could adjust.

"Welcome back to the land of the functioning. I'm warning you now before you pull your impression of the Decepticons fleeing! Don't even think about leaving that berth or I will weld your doorwings to your aft for the duration of your stay here!"

"Ratchet, as usual your berth side manner continues to inspire your patients to heal quickly. Would you be so kind as to simply explain what happened and when I may leave?"

"It's a long story, one I don't care to repeat right now. So get comfortable!"

Prowl raised an optic ridge at the CMO but knew better than to question his response. Besides he'd find out the truth of the matter in due time.

"Anyways, as a result of your…accident…I've taken a few systems offline. Communications, weapons, transformations. I want to run a few more diagnostics to make sure all primary systems are fully functional before bringing your secondary systems back online."

"Very well, proceed at your leisure. May I be permitted to put my report together for Prime while you run the diagnostics."

"No!" Ratchet snapped, not so gently inserting a plug into Prowl's forearm port.

Prowl winced from the pain but kept his vocal processor silent.

'_Yo, Ratchet, how's it hangin'?_'

"Oh Primus, did you have to stick me in room with _**him**_?" Prowl groaned, rolling his optics.

"_**Him**_?" Ratchet inquired.

"Jazz of course," Prowl huffed, looking around. He quickly realized he was in a private room where there was only one medical berth. "Where is he?"

'_I'm right 'ere!_'

"Who said that?" Prowl asked.

"Prowl?" Ratchet asked, keeping a close optic on the SIC.

"You didn't just hear Jazz speaking?"

"No. He's not here, Prowl," Ratchet seriously replied, his normal frown deepening.

'_What?_'

"_**Who**_ said that?" Prowl demanded, moving sitting forward.

"I did," Ratchet grumbled, shove Prowl back…hard.

"You said 'what?'?"

"No, I said that Jazz isn't here."

"No, you just didn't say the word 'what'?"

"No, I didn't Prowl," Ratchet growled, getting angrier by the astrosecond.

'_Prowl_?'

"Yes? Where are you?"

"I'm right here, Prowl," Ratchet grumbled grabbing a nearby medical scanner.

"I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Jazz."

"He's not here for pits sake!" Ratchet snapped.

'_Yes, I am so 'ere! Ya ol' fragger!_'

"You didn't just hear Jazz right now?"

"No, I didn't hear Jazz. Hold your fragging head still so I can run a scan to see which screws fell out!"

"Are you sure my communicator is offline?"

"Positive," Ratchet replied attaching a lead to Prowl's left temple and then another lead to his right temple. "Now don't move."

'_Ah, Prowl. Funny question…where are ya?_' Jazz chuckled nervously.

"I'm lying in a reclined position on a medical berth in a private room of the medical bay. Ratchet is standing beside me to my left performing diagnostics. Why do you ask?"

'_Oh no. Slag no_!' Jazz gasped. '_Just bear wit' me. Could ya please put yar servos over ya optics?_'

"Why do you wish for me to do that?" Prowl questioned, raising an optic ridge.

'_Just do it!_'

Ignoring the ever growing concerned look from Ratchet, Prowl put both his white hands up and covered his optics as requested.

"What the slag are you doing now?" Ratchet asked sounding stunned.

'_Pit no! Primus Almight, this can't be happening!_'

"What can't be happening?" Prowl asked.

'_This is horrible! I can see that!_'

"See what?" Prowl asked worriedly not liking Jazz's tone.

'_Yar hands over yar optics as if they were my optics!_'

Prowl arched his optic ridges worriedly. Then he slowly lowered his servos and calmly returning them to his lap. Then he looked squarely into Ratchet's optics.

"Ratchet, I think you'd better explain to precisely what happened to Jazz and myself. And I mean right _**now**_."

The CMO gave the SIC a long stare before nodding his head slowly.

"The Decepticons fired at you just as the trans-warp field was collapsing on you to bring you both back. The additional energy caused a feedback on our end destroying the gate's control console. Yours and Jazz's energy signatures were trapped inside the gate's buffer. There was only enough energy to rematerialize one of you. Since we didn't know who was who Optimus randomly picked an energy signature and it happened to be yours. Jazz's energy signature is still trapped inside the buffer until repairs can be made."

"No."

'_This can't be happenin', mech! Slag, I even had a hot date tonight too!_'

"Jazz isn't trapped in the buffer," Prowl seriously said.

"I beg your pardon?" Ratchet asked.

"He's in here," Prowl replied, tapping the side of his helm.

"Say that again," Ratchet remarked, narrowing his optics.

'_I'm in his fraggin' head rust bucket!_' Jazz yelled making Prowl wince slightly.

"It would seem that the consciousness of Jazz left the buffer when my energy signature did. Jazz is inside my processor and fully capable of seeing what I see, hearing what I hear, and speaking his processor to me."

Ratchet's optics darkened and then a long string of obscenities spewed rapidly from his vocal processor as he stomped out of the private room.

'_He took that well,_' Jazz commented sarcastically.

"Indeed."

'_Whatcha think he's doin?_'

"Perhaps he is going to self terminate and puts us all out of our misery," Prowl replied dryly making Jazz laugh.

'_I bet in five klicks Optimus will be in 'ere 'long wit' Jack_.'

"If I were a betting mech I'd have to agree with you."

'_So ya do agree wit' me for once_!'

"Hardly. If you were listening, said if I were a betting mech I'd agree with you. However, I'm not a betting mech. Logic tells me Optimus and Wheeljack will be here regardless of any odds."

'_I can hear ya talkin' but ya just ain't makin' any sense._'

"Which proves the fact that you don't ever listen to what I have to say," Prowl countered and thus ended the conversation bringing a smirk to the tactician's lip components.

It was in fact seven klicks that had passed by the time Optimus showed. Only there was no Wheeljack. Instead Perceptor and a young mech whom Prowl recognized as Skyfall showed up with the Prime.

'_This doesn't bode well_,' Jazz commented and Prowl was inclined to agree. Not that he'd admit that to the irritating saboteur.

"Ratchet, report," Optimus ordered.

"So who's responsible for this frag up!" Ratchet snarled, making both Perceptor and Skyfall jump back a step.

"Ratchet, get to the point! Why are we here?"

"Sorry, Optimus. I ran a processor scan after Prowl enlightened me. The scan confirmed what he revealed. There are in fact two distinct consciences – Jazz and Prowl's - within his processor. As to how it happened, only numb nodes and crankshaft can explain precisely what happened during the rematerialization process…I hope."

"We're not trans-warp experts, I told you that to begin with, Sir," Perceptor said.

"We did the best we could under the circumstance. I mean at least they're both alive, Sir," Skyfall added moving back another step.

"Well if you had any sense maybe you'd have done a simulation or something before mashing away at the control panel and hoping for something to happen!" Ratchet yelled.

"Frag you!" Skyfall growled back. "I didn't see anyone else volunteering to get the job done!"

"QUIET!" Optimus roared silencing them all. "We're not here to lay blame. We're here to fix the problem."

"Excuse me, Sir, but why wasn't Wheeljack involved in our rematerialization?" Prowl asked.

'_Good question!_'

"Because the idiot blew up half the Engineering building and put himself as well as his senior staff in medical stasis! Not only to I have to repair them but I have to fabricate parts, including limbs!"

"That aside, what is the danger to Prowl and Jazz now?" Optimus asked pinching his nose bridge.

"The frag if I know. It's not like they teach anything like this at the medical academy, Optimus. But as far as I can tell, there are no dangers. From the diagnostics, both consciences appear stable. Prowl's systems are functioning within normal parameters."

'_Pfft, barely_,' Jazz snorted and it took a concerted effort for Prowl to ignore the jibe. He really didn't want to look like a fool in front of Optimus Prime by having an argument with Jazz when no one could hear Jazz. The situation was already crazy enough as it was and was straining his logic circuits. He didn't need to add to that.

"So, you can hear him?" Optimus asked and Prowl could swear mirth twinkled in his Prime's optics.

"Correct, Sir. And he can hear all of you."

"Can you read each other's thoughts?" Perceptor asked excitedly.

"No!" Prowl irritably huffed. Figures the science nerd would find something about his predicament fascinating.

'_Thank Primus_,' Jazz added even though no one could hear him.

"Anyways, I would like to keep his weapon and transformation systems offline for the time being," Ratchet continued. "Just in case. And I would like to keep him on light duty for the next two or three cycles while I make repairs on Wheeljack. If my staff works around the clock I believe in two, three cycles max I'll have his staff up on their peds so we can fix this debacle."

"Sir, I believe we are fully capable of handling this situation with maturity and I should be able to perform my duties without incident," Prowl added.

'_Hey, what 'bout me?_'

"Shh!" Prowl exclaimed.

"What was that Prowl?" Optimus asked.

"Nothing, Sir," Prowl responded calmly as if there was no outburst.

"Alright. Ratchet I need Prowl in two joors for the tactical briefing with the base commanders. Will he be ready?"

"Of course, Prime," Ratchet answered.

"Excellent. I'll see you in the briefing room then," Optimus said and then left.

'_So what 'bout me? What am I supposed to do?_'

"Ratchet, Jazz wants to know about his duties. What's he supposed to do?"

"Jazz is off duty for now. I don't really want to allow you on duty but I know Optimus needs you while the Autobot base commanders are here. Besides, it's not like Jazz can go anywhere. He's stuck with you, literally," Ratchet smirked.

"Frag," Prowl cursed under his breath.

'_I heard that. Don't worry. Feelin's mutual._'

Prowl looked up to the heavens wondering if Primus was punishing him for some transgression in a past life.

_**Just under two joors later, briefing room…**_

Jazz was bored and there was nothing he could do about it. He tried singing only to get yelled at. He tried humming softly and got growled at. And all Prowl did was go over his notes for the upcoming briefing – _**boring**_ with a capital 'B'.

'_Do ya always arrive so early for meetin's?_'

"I'm always first, if that's what you're implying. Only because I like to be prepared. And it's good to observe what kind of mood the other officers are in as they arrive."

'_Why, so ya could bore them to death_?' Jazz snickered.

Prowl exhaled loudly.

"Jazz, this meeting is very important to me and for our cause. It is essential that you control yourself and refrain from commenting or talking to me so that I may focus on my job."

'_Easy for ya coz ya have yar body. I feel so constricted in here._'

"I find that illogical. You should feel nothing as it is _**my **_body."

'_That's ma point._'

"Prowl."

"Optimus, Sir," Prowl greeting rising as his Prime came to join him near the head of the conference table.

"How are things going?"

"As well as could be expected under the circumstances."

'_Could be betta though_,' Jazz commented, making Prowl groan and cover his optics.

"How's Jazz doing?"

'_Bored to death!_'

"He is…as well as could be expected under the circumstances, Sir," Prowl answered.

'_Ya said that already_,' Jazz pointed out but got no reaction from Prowl.

"I just realized a few klicks ago that I feel I should warn you," Optimus said, keeping his voice low.

"Sir?"

"Jazz's old base Commander and his second in command will be here for this briefing."

Prowl flinched hearing Jazz growling within.

"I take it they're parting terms were not mutually friendly?"

Jazz snorted loudly to Prowl, '_ya could say that!_'

"He got along with the base commander just fine. It was the second in command it had issues with. Jazz, since I know you can hear me, I need to know if you're ok with this."

'_That fragger's just lucky I ain't in my body right now_!'

"I believe Jazz would wish me to convey that he will restrain himself and if he were physically in control he would attempt to be civil towards…," Prowl translated.

'_Springer_,' Jazz growled.

"Springer?"

'_Fragger never understood that some missions required finesse_,' Jazz added. '_Said that special ops mechs were wimps! I mean he insulted my mechhood! And…_'

"We'll be fine, Sir," Prowl said as Jazz continued ranting.

Jazz wasn't sure how long he was ranting but he suddenly realized Prowl's attention was focused on Optimus and that the Prime was addressing a now full briefing room. Jazz couldn't see the entire room because Prowl was facing away from the majority of the occupants. So the only mechs Jazz could see in attendance were Jetfire, Ultra Magnus, Optimus, and he could just see Kup's arm through Prowl's peripheral vision.

'_I see Kup's here. Turn your head so I can see the afthead!_'

Instead of complying, Prowl turned his vision more towards Optimus at the head of the table.

"You have the floor, Prowl," Optimus said.

"Thank you, Sir," Prowl said, rising to his feet.

'_Ya sneaky fragger!_' Jazz exclaimed as Prowl made his way to the maps being display. The mech turned to as not to block the map but also not get a clear view of the room. '_Turn around! I wanna see him!_'

Prowl cleared his throat and then dived into his briefing with his usual monotone that usually tone that could easily put Jazz to recharge. Thankfully Prowl's briefings were short and to the point unlike Red Alert's who's just dragged on and on long enough to even put Prowl into recharge.

However, Jazz's more devious side couldn't leave well enough alone. Every so often he'd start singing or making noises or even started repeating Prowl word for word. Anything to get a rise out of the stoic tactician. For the most part, Prowl was doing a good job at ignoring Jazz which in turn nearly made the saboteur give up. His devious mind came up with one last idea.

'_Hey Prowl, I have a question for ya? Is it true that Praxians have ultra sensitive spikes and ports?_' Jazz asked and at the same time one of the officers in the room made a comment.

"Will you just shut up and let me finish!" Prowl shouted, clenching his fists.

"Excuse me?"

'_Oops, some bot's in trouble_,' Jazz snickered musically.

"My apologies, Kup," Prowl said, bowing his head flicking his optics towards Optimus.

"Prowl is still recovering from a head injury," Optimus said in defense of his SIC. "Ratchet warned me that he might get irritable."

Jazz laughed.

"Regardless, he can't talk to my CO that way!" a rather large green pissed off looking mech growled, rising to his feet.

Jazz stopped laughing and started growling.

"Springer, I assure you the comment wasn't directed at Kup. I meant no offense," Prowl insisted, holding his ground.

"Well too bad, I was offended!" Springer growled.

"Sit down," Kup ordered Springer.

"Yeah, sit that aft down ya fraggin' slaghead!" Jazz said out loud but it distinctly sounded like Prowl's voice.

Prowl's servo clamped over his mouth, mortified. Optimus just looked at him with wide optics.

"What did you do?" Prowl asked, ignoring the curious looks from everyone as he turned around to face away from them.

'_I don't know! I got mad! And it just…I don't know…came out!_'

"What did you call me?" Springer asked, glowering, stalking the SIC.

"Optimus, I believe it prudent to remove us from this meeting," Prowl quickly requested, facing his Prime.

'_Oh no…this is gonna hurt…I suggest ya run, Prowl!_'

"I'm afraid we need to finish this first Prowl then you will be confined to quarters," Optimus said, rising to stop Springer's advance. "Springer, you will stand down and I will explain. Now soldier!"

"This ought to be interesting," Jetfire snickered to Ultra Magnus who watched to make sure the wrecker took his seat as ordered.

"As I stated before Prowl was in an accident," Optimus explained. "What it was or how it happened is not important. The fact is that for a couple of cycles Prowl is stuck with the consciousness of another mech within his processor. He can hear this individual speak and this individual can see and hear all of us. Of course, I did order said individual to control himself during this meeting."

"Pfft, that minibot, fragger can't control himself," Springer snorted.

"You know who it is?" Jetfire questioned.

"Oh yeah. I'd recognize that Polyhexian drawl of Jazz's anywhere," Springer replied.

"Please, that information is not to leave this room," Optimus ordered. "Only a handful of mechs know what happened."

"We understand, Prime," Kup said as well as the other officers.

"I actually feel sorry for the Praxian prick to have to put up with that aft," Springer commented. "Jazz never could control himself or that vocal processor of his. He was a pain in my aft on a number of occasions."

Prowl suddenly leapt over the table with the quickness and agility of his form and before Springer, or anyone, could even react, Prowl slammed his fist hard into the wrecker's jaw dislocating it. One more leap and bound and he was out the doorway, racing down the hall.

'_What the slag was that!_' Jazz asked stunned.

"I know…I can't believe I just defended you!"

'_Wow! Thanks. I think._'

"You're welcome. Besides, there's a ninety percent probability that Optimus will let us off the hook. All I have to do is blame it on you. Since it is obvious you can control my body."

'_Gee, thanks_!' Jazz growled. '_Wait…what?_'

"Your outburst," Prowl said, slowing his stride to a fast walk as they entered the officer's residential section of the base.

'_I still don't know how I did that._'

"Good. I would like to avoid a repeat occurrence of it," Prowl said as he keyed in his access code and entered his quarters. "I think we should remain confined to quarters until Wheeljack can correct this problem."

'_Hey, since I'm stuck with ya, don'tcha think ya could get some things from my quarters, like some music or something?_'

"Contrary to popular belief, I do have my own music file collection," Prowl answered, point to where he stored the music files. "You may choose from there first and if you still do not find something to your liking then we'll get something from your quarters."

"Sweet!" Jazz said, out loud and took a few steps towards before stumbling. "Whoa!"

"Hey!" Prowl shouted, taking control of his body back, looking a little miffed! "I told you not to do that!"

'_Sorry, I just reacted without thinking'_,' Jazz said. '_That felt weird though_.'

"I couldn't agree more."

'_No, not the bein' in control of yar body. The walkin' bit. I felt off balanced._'

"Ah, it's my doorwings."

'_They make ya feel off balanced?_'

"Not me as I am accustomed to them. But I would imagine that they would be for you. You were not born with them. Praxian mechs take longer to learn how to walk because of their winglets. It takes time to learn how to control them."

'_Can I try, please?_'

"This goes against my better judgment," Prowl grumbled. "Go ahead. But be careful! Doorwings are very sensitive."

'_I got it. I got it!_'

"I must be insane," Prowl muttered relinquishing control.

"Nah, yar just a good mech," Jazz smiled, fully in control of Prowl's body. He raised an arm and clenched a white fist. "That is so weird."

'_What is?_'

"Talkin'. It's my words but yar voice."

'_Do the little things always amuse you?_'

"Ya, the li'l things often matta most to an individual."

'_For once, we are in agreement on something_,' Prowl replied.

"So got any pointas?"

'_Well, I suggest trying to moving one of the doorwings. Keep the movement small. They're…_'

"Sensitive. I got it mech. Relax."

'_I can't. _**You **_are in control of my body._'

"Does anyone know ya actually _**do**_ have a sense of humor?" Jazz asked, laughing.

'_You're the first_,' Prowl replied sadly.

"Sorry, mech. I guess it's hard on ya since ya're the second in command. Ya come off as unapproachable because ya're always workin' so hard. Most mechs are afraid of ya while the others have too much respect for ya."

'_We all must make sacrifices for the greater good._'

"Well, not anymore. We're gonna do somethin' about it when Jack fixes us. Ok?"

'_If you say so._'

"I do," Jazz said. "I'm a mech of my word. Now…let's see if I can…what was that?"

Jazz whirled around again when he felt something ghost over one of the doorwings. Then he spun around the other way when he felt it again. And then again and again.

'_Jazz, don't that! For Primus sake! You look like a mecha-pup chasing its tail!_'

"What is that?"

'_It's the air current in the room blowing over the sensors in the panels._'

"That feels so weird!"

"I hardly notice it anymore unless there's a problem with the ventilation system," Prowl said resuming control of his body and heading over to his computer terminal. "No messages."

'_That a good thing_?' Jazz questioned.

"I suspect if Prime was angry with us he'd have had called us to his office by now."

'_So what do we do now_?' Jazz asked.

"Recharge. I'm not sure about you but I'm exhausted."

'_Good idea, ma friend. How about some soft music?_'

"Sure, I enjoy listening to it as I fall into recharge. Especially on my most stressful cycles."

'_Me too,_' Jazz said, wishing he could show Prowl a genuine smile. '_Ya know, we seem to have more in common that eitha of us ever thought_.'

"We certainly do," Prowl yawned, getting comfortable on his side on the berth. "Recharge well, Jazz."

'_Ya too, Prowl._'

Jazz distinctly heard Prowl's systems all cycling down. Yet he remained awake. Wide awake. After ten klicks he was still wide awake. It dawned on him that he wasn't going to be able to recharge unless he burned off some of this excess energy.

On command he cycled up all of Prowl's systems, grateful the mech's conscience remained in recharge. Then Jazz got up with a smirk on his face and waltzed in his usual way out the door and into the hallway.

_**The next cycle….**_

Prowl stretched out his arms and legs as he came online. Then he sat up and flexed his doorwings while rubbing his face with his servos.

'_Ten more klicks, please?_' Jazz groaned sleepily.

"Wow, it's been a long time since I woke feeling so relaxed," Prowl smiled, onlining his optics. He immediately noticed that he wasn't in his quarters. This room was a mess! "Where are we?"

'_My quarters. I couldn't remember your code to get back in._'

"WHAT?" Prowl shouted leaping to his peds.

'_Relax. I couldn't recharge so I went an' knocked out a few rounds with a sparrin' drone._'

Prowl let out an agitated sigh.

"Well, I suppose it could have been worse," he commented, carefully stepping around the mess scattered on the floor. But then he abruptly stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself in a full length mirror. His armor…it sparkled! He wasn't a slacker when it came to cleanliness and his armor always had a pristine shine but it never _**sparkled**_ before! "What the…!"

'_Oh yeah_,' Jazz giggled. '_Ya like? After sparrin' I hit the wash racks an' gave ya armor a proper shine job_.'

"Actually, yes. I do like it. What kind of polish are you using?"

'_I'll get ya yar own supply. I know a mech._'

"Thank you, Jazz. You even managed to get the doorwings done. Impressive."

'_About the doorwings_…'

Prowl stiffened at Jazz's tone. Instinctively he knew this couldn't be good.

"What'd you do, Jazz?"

'_Ok, I didn't know how to do the wings. I knew how sensitive they were and I didn't want to damage them. So...I asked my best friend to help me_.'

Prowl groaned loudly.

'_Blaster's cool. He won't tell anyone. I made him swear on Steeljaw's head. Ya know he loves his cassettes._'

"Why do I get the feeling there's more to it than that?"

'_Well, neither Blaster nor myself have had experience wit' doorwings b'fore. We honestly, swear to Primus, never knew they were _**that**_ sensitive_!_ I mean, how were we to know touching them could cause_** that**_ to happen!_'

"You didn't…oh…Primus almighty! You overloaded!"

'_It was an accident!_' Jazz exclaimed. '_I mean I had no idea that was gonna happen!_'

"Just…just don't talk to me for a klick. I feel violated in so many ways right now," Prowl moaned holding his face in his hands. To Jazz's credit, he kept quiet…for a short time.

'_Well, if it's any consolation, it was one o' the best overloads I ever had an' since it's technically yar body ya had it too! _'

"That's it! I can't handle this any longer."

Prowl stormed out of Jazz's quarters and stomped his way through the base. Checking his chronometer he was stunned to see it was almost mid-cycle which meant that Jazz deactivated his internal alarm! Pushing that thought aside, he headed to where his Prime should be at this time of the cycle. Prime was nearly as predicable as Prowl and thus the black and white Praxian found Optimus in his office.

"Prowl, how can I help you?" Optimus calmly asked.

"Sir! Something has to be done! I can't exist like this for another klick!" Prowl exclaimed, pacing irritably, wings fluttering agitatedly. "He hijacked my body after I went into recharge!"

"Hey, I told ya I couldn't recharge so I sparred to burn off some excess energy!" Jazz shouted.

"But you did so without my permission!" Prowl snapped. "You know what he did? He overloaded! That has to be some kind of violation or something!"

"Hey, it was an accident!" Jazz exclaimed.

"Accident?" Optimus questioned, arching an optic ridge.

"Sir, I'm begging you. Shoot me. Take me offline. Put me into stasis. I can't handle this!" Prowl pleaded.

"I thought we were gettin' to be friends! Is that how ya treat ya friends?" Jazz roared.

"Friends don't hijack their friend's body!" Prowl pointed out.

"True but they do, do stupid things they don't mean an' wish they could take back. I swear on ma spark, if I could take it back I would. I would neva betray the trust we've built togetha. Why else do ya think I told ya? I wanted to be honest wit' ya 'coz that's what friends do!"

Prowl's wings fell flat against his back. He knew in his spark Jazz was right and he felt bad for overreacting. He never overreacts! Except around Jazz.

"You just have a habit of bringing the worst out of me," Prowl spoke softly.

'_I know an' I'm sorry_,' Jazz replied.

"Prowl?" Prime called and was now standing beside his SIC.

"I apologize, Sir. This has been taxing on my systems."

"Our systems," Jazz added.

"Well, despite the circumstances it is good to see my SIC and TIC finally in agreement," Optimus smiled. "Even if it took an act by Primus to do it."

"It was probably the only way," Prowl smiled. "A shame too."

"Well, it seems Primus has intervened once again," Optimus said. "Although Ratchet will say differently. Wheeljack was brought online and fully repaired a joor ago. He's already in the trans-warp gate room and says he's ready to correct this accident."

'_Woohoo!_' Jazz cheered.

"Jazz and I are in perfect agreement. This is wonderful news, Sir!"

"Yes it is. It was rather unnerving hearing a mech having an argument with himself! It will be good to have things back to normal around here."

"About that…with Springer…"

"He will not be pressing charges," Optimus said. "If anything his ego wouldn't let him. Seems Jetfire and Magnus pointed out that a Praxian has never taken down a wrecker before and that shut Springer up instantly. Apparently, wreckers don't think too highly of door wingers or saboteurs."

"That's not right," Jazz said out loud. "Praxian forms are some of the most agile. Once ya figure out how to move wit' doorwings that is. The sensory panels actually help tremendously in hand to hand combat."

"Are you up to test your skills against mine?" Prowl asked.

"Yar on, mech. Let's go get my body!"

With that, they headed to the trans-warp room. Ratchet was already there as well, looking exhausted and pissed. Prowl avoided him like cosmic rust not even sparing a glance to see if the mech had a wrench in or near his servo.

"Perfect timing!" Wheeljack said excitedly greeting Prowl and Optimus. "I just ran a few simulations and we're looking good. So if you're ready. We're good to go."

"We are more than ready," Prowl said.

'_Bet yar aft we are!_'

"Ok, take your position then," Wheeljack said.

"Jazz…" Prowl whispered as he moved into the designate area for transwarping.

'_I understand mech. It's been a wild ride, Prowler. One that was worth it._'

"I couldn't agree more," Prowl smiled, standing up tall. "Ready when you are, Wheeljack."

"Ok, activating transwarp field now."

Prowl's doorwings instantly picked up on the familiar change in the air's density surrounding him. He could literally feel the warp field expand and contract until a blinding flash occurred. Once the light faded and his optics adjusted he could see he was back in the warp room.

"Prowl…Jazz?" Optimus called but Prowl never heard him.

Darkness consumed Prowl instantly as he fell unconscious. He regained consciousness to the annoying bright lights of the medical bay.

"I do hope it worked," he muttered, rubbing his faceplates.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Jazz?" Prowl hesitantly asked.

"Yeah, it's me," Jazz responded coming into view.

"It's so good to not have you inside my processor…no offense."

"None taken," Jazz chuckled. "I'm just glad to have my body back."

"Where's Ratchet?"

"Rechargin'. Prime's orders."

With a nod and smirk, Prowl swung his legs over the side of the berth and stood up.

"So ya hate it in here as much as I do," Jazz grinned as they made they're wait out of the private room.

"With a passion," Prowl replied, glancing around the main room of the medical bay. Seeing it was clear he headed for the exit with Jazz at his side.

"And bots say yar sparkless. Yar just in control of yar emotions."

"I don't have the luxury of being emotional. I'm second in command. My decisions affect every mech I send into battle."

"Ya take it very personally when we lose a bot, dontcha?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Ya, I would," Jazz seriously said. Then he put an arm around Prowl's shoulder. "Come on my friend, we're still off duty the cycle. Let's head to the recreation room an' get some high grade an' have a li'l fun."

Prowl laughed, "Why do I get the feeling that when you're involved in 'a li'l fun' it spells trouble."

Jazz smirked, "See we're gonna be good friends. Ya know me so well already, Prowler."

_**Epilogue**_

Optimus was a praying mech. He believed deeply in Primus' teachings. He even had enough faith that there were times when Primus intervened for the greater good. How could he not when the evidence was overwhelming?

Only two cycles ago Prowl and Jazz were literally at odds, arguing at the top over the vocal processors' capacity in front of him in his office. Enter the act of divine intervention and two cycles later those same two mechs were standing before him once again…only they were different. They were yelling only they were yelling to defend each other against Springer. It was an argument the wrecker was doomed to lose as Prowl and Jazz were far too intelligent and as it turns out devious.

"Enough!" The Prime commanded, holding back a chuckled.

Alas, while a part of him was absolutely thrilled Prowl and Jazz were finally working together as a team and appeared to have formed a budding friendship, Optimus was still Prime and had a duty to perform. He stared down at the three mechs whose frames were covered in dents, scrapes and dried energon.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear so I'll ask again. Who started the brawl in the recreation room that injured two dozen mechs, which included putting four wreckers being put into medical stasis, six femmes, destroyed nine tables, a dozen chairs, damaged the structural integrity of one wall, and demolished an energon dispenser?"

**The End**


	27. Day Twentyeight and Twentynine

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N:** mature content

* * *

**Day 28 & 29**: Bots behaving badly & Alpha Male

The party was Jazz's idea. But then that was never a surprise to anyone. If there was a party, planned or not, Jazz was always involved.

This one was different. Jazz not only had Prime's approval but had a full orn for planning it. He was motivated by the low moral and by the good news that Prime's sparkmate, Elita-One, and closest friend, Ultra Magnus, were alive and bringing their respective forces, the Femme Elites and Wreckers, to Iacon to regroup. Also, Jazz just liked it when his friends were happy living instead of surviving.

Of course by the cycle of the party, the gathering ended up starting without Jazz. He was running late because of a mission and left it up to Blaster to make sure the party started off without a hitch. So by the time Jazz waltzed in, after making sure his armor was immaculately clean of course, the party was in full swing.

"Jazz, you made it!"

"Whoa, Sunny, watch where ya spillin yar drink, mech!" Jazz laughed, jerking his hips back so the high grade splashed to the floor and not his legs.

"Oh slag, sorry!"

"No harm done."

"Jazz come join us for a drink!" Sides grinned, pulling the saboteur over towards a table.

"I see everyone's havin' fun," Jazz grinned sitting down.

"Yeah we are," Bluestreak laughed. "Bumblebee did, a little too much already."

"Little bot couldn't hold his high grade," Sunny smirked, lifting Bumblebee's head up off the table for a moment.

"Here, Jazz," Sides said, placing a cube of high grade before Jazz as he sat down.

"Thanks," Jazz replied, not hesitating to take a long drink as he surveyed the room. "The new comers having a good time too?"

"From what we can tell. They kind of stick to themselves," Bluestreak replied. "Prime was here for a few klicks before he and Elita disappeared."

"Yeah, they're getting it on early," Sunny snickered.

"Good for 'em," Jazz smiled.

"What about you, Jazz?" Sides winked. "No early cycle with Prowl?"

"Probably not," Bluestreak said. "They still haven't done the deed. Prowl thinks Jazz has cold peds when it comes to interfacing with him."

"Bluestreak!" Jazz exclaimed, getting flustered.

"Sorry, Jazz! Prowl's my brother! He tells me things! I drink I can't keep my vocal processor silent!" Blue cringed.

"He can't keep silent period!" Bumblebee muttered loudly lifting his head up momentarily. "Who can recharge around here?"

And like that Bee's head went back down.

"Is it true?" Sides eagerly asked Jazz who just wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear after what Blue said. "You and Prowl haven't interfaced yet!"

"I thought you guys were tight, mech. What's wrong with you?" Sunny asked.

"Ain't _**nothin**_' wrong wit' me!"

"Oh, I don't know," Sides said. "Now we know why Prowl's been here since the beginning of the party."

"What?" Jazz asked in disbelief. "Prowl neva comes to parties early an' only shows up to make sure I'm behavin'."

"Prowl met a fellow Praxian, a tactician who's been stationed with the wreckers," Bluestreak explained. "They've been talking, exchanging ideas nonstop all cycle. They're so fragging boring!"

"It's not looking boring from here," Sunny said, pointing. "Jazz, seriously you should have fragged Prowl. That Praxian's making the moves on your mech and it looks like Prowl enjoying it."

Jazz jerked up right in his seat and his optics snapped towards the direction Sunny was pointing. Across the room at a table was Prowl with another Praxian mech. Jazz made note of the empty cubes on the table and the fact that Prowl had a relaxed grin on his face with shuttered optic covers. But the most important thing Jazz witnessed was that this mech was massaging Prowl's wing joints.

Now, Jazz was no fool. He knew precisely what massaging a Praxian's sensitive wing joints could do. In fact, Jazz enjoyed torturing Prowl many times, turning the mech in a metal putty in his hands. The saboteur realized now perhaps he shouldn't have teased the tactician so much. He knew for certain that if they'd been interfacing that Prowl would never have let another mech other than Jazz lay a servo on him.

"What's this Praxian's name?" Jazz coolly asked, sipping on his high grade.

"Smokescreen," Sides smirked.

This Smokescreen stroked Prowl's chevron quickly. Another highly sensitive spot Jazz often kissed affectionately. The saboteur's optics narrowed behind his visor, anger exuded from him. No one touched his mech like that! In one gulp the remainder of his drink went down.

"Do me fava, bring me a couple of refills in a few klicks," he said, getting to his peds.

"Sure, no problem Jazz," Sunny grinned.

In one step, Jazz purged his anger. Prowl would pick up on it instantly no matter how much high grade he's had to drink. It's one of the things Jazz loves so much about Prowl, he knew Jazz's emotions like no other.

In his usual nonchalant manner, Jazz made his way across the room greeting mechs with a megawatt smile and friendly handshake. The entire time his optics were always watching what Smokescreen was doing to Prowl like a turbo-hawk. It took a Unicron size will to resist growling and charging over to beat the blue and yellow Praxian's face in when he boldly dared…_**dared**_ to caress on of Prowl's doorwings!

"Hey there, Prowler," Jazz purred, sliding into the booth, pressing directly up against Prowl's side.

"Ja…emph…"

Jazz didn't hesitate to claim what was his with a deep, sensual, glossa probing kiss. Jazz smiled on the inside when he noticed how Smokescreen was glaring angrily at him. To the mech's credit, he didn't back off entirely for he was still right up against Prowl's opposite side.

"Hmm, ya've been drinkin'," Jazz hummed, licking his lips slowly.

"What? Oh, yeah. I've only had a couple," Prowl replied…dazed.

"Ya taste good. I may need seconds…if ya don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," Prowl smirked back already leaning in for the anticipate kiss.

This time Jazz slid his left arm possessively around Prowl's shoulder's pulling him closer. His right hand slowly caressed up Prowl's smooth white thigh, finding the sensitive wire in the hip joint.

"Ya're lookin' so hot babe," Jazz murmured, slowly kissing Prowl's jaw line while his right hand slid up to tease the red arrow on Prowl's interface panel. Prowl moaned loudly shifting his hips, tilting his head back and Jazz didn't hesitate to suckle slowly on his prize's neck. "Oh yeah, so hot."

The bold move made Smokescreen move over and away from Prowl.

"We makin' ya uncomfortable, Smokey?" Jazz asked, smiling victoriously, leaning into Prowl's hand that was stroking his sensory horn, becoming more aroused himself by the astrosecond. Jazz moaned deeply, squirming in his seat, noticing how the entire room had been far too loud and over energized to notice his little pleasurable assault on Prowl.

"It's fine," the yellow and blue Praxian frowned.

"I'm not sure what ya mechs do on yar own base but 'round 'ere, mechs know not to play wit' what's not theirs," Jazz dangerously said.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind for next time."

"Good. Prowl, babe, whatcha think about gettin' outta 'ere? Yar gettin' me so hot I really need to frag ya right now 'fore my panel bursts off by itself."

"Hmm, I thought you'd never ask," Prowl countered, pushing at Jazz's aft to move faster.

"Oh, thanks Sunny an' Sides, those drinks are for Smokey. He needs 'em to cool off," Jazz smirked as he got to his peds with Prowl pressed against him. "See ya mechs tomorrow."

"See you Jazz, Prowl," the twins grinned and then laughed heartily as they set the drinks down in front of Smokescreen.

Jazz chuckled over his shoulder when Smokey drank two of the cubes down fast. Then his attention was focused entirely on _**his**_ Praxian. Intelligent. Handsome. Strong lithe frame with such beautiful wings. Jazz honestly couldn't believe he had been so afraid to take their relationship to the next level until a short while ago. Prowl was everything he wanted and more.

"Let's go to yar quarters. Ya have a bigger berth," Jazz ordered, kissing Prowl on the cheek, pulling the mech close as they walked with a possessive arm around his waist.

Prowl smiled but said nothing. Not that Jazz noticed at the moment. His interface systems were fully online now and his processor was only thinking of one thing. Hence his hurried stride while pulling Prowl along with him. Even once they reached the door, Jazz could barely wait. His servos were all over Prowl's wings as the mech was punching in the door lock's access code.

"The mech had no right touchin' ya like that," Jazz breathed, pressing himself against Prowl's back, being mindful of the mech's wings as they stepped inside.

Prowl locked the door and slowly pulled away from Jazz's embrace. His pace was slow, doorwings moving back and forth teasingly, black aft looking far too tantalizing. Jazz growl softly feeling the pressure and heat building behind his heated panel.

"Yar mine, Prowler. Ya know that?"

"Then take me if I'm truly yours," Prowl dared, smoldering deep blue optics locking on Jazz over his shoulder.

Jazz had every intention of doing just that.

In two long fast steps his panel retracted, relieving the pressure on his spike, allowing it to extend fully. At the same time he'd whirled Prowl around and pressed him up against the nearest wall. Lips and hands frantically assaulted the Praxian's hot spots, making him gasp, moan, cry out, and writhe in pleasure.

"Open up for me, babe," Jazz moaned, lifting one of Prowl's legs up over his hip. Nimble black fingers smoothed enticingly over the panel anxiously waiting. "Come on Prowl. I need to be inside ya. I need to make ya mine."

"And if I don't?"

Jazz leaned in more and bit down gently on one of Prowl's wings, making the tactician's frame shudder hard.

"Frag it Jazz. You know my weakness all to well."

Jazz chuckled and was rewarded. He slowly inserted two fingers into Prowl's valve, making him gasp. The mech's interface systems were already well prepared, coolant fans working hard.

"Stop teasing me fragger," Prowl growl nipping Jazz's neck roughly. "You've been teasing me for orns now!"

"Then a few more klicks isn't gonna hurt ya," Jazz teased, sliding a finger slowly around the rim of Prowl's valve and then slipped two fingers inside. "I gotta make sure yar ready. I ain't exactly a small mech, if ya get my meanin'."

"Jazz…please," Prowl rasped, shutting his optics.

"Wow, a first! I've got the great Prowl tactician beggin'!"

"Don't get too cocky or you'll find yourself alone real fast," Prowl countered, glaring at Jazz.

"Shh, I'm sorry babe," Jazz cooed, realizing again he took it one step too far. "I'm gonna move in slow, just in case. I don't wanna hurt ya. I love ya too much."

"I…oh, Jazz…I love you too," Prowl gasped, smiling, leaning his head back.

"Oh that feels so good," Jazz moaned, thrusting upwards again and again. "Ya're so slick an' hot. Primus…I ain't gonna last long."

"Neither am I. I was already overly excited from the anticipation of this moment."

"That yar way of sayin' I'm one sexy mech?" Jazz smirked, jerking his hips roughly over and over.

"One fine sexy mech with a hot body and…oh primus…FRAG! I'm about to come Jazz."

"I'm not far behind ya," Jazz panted, thrusting faster and harder.

Though only on one leg, Prowl managed to grind his body against Jazz's doing his best to stay in some kind of rhythm with Jazz's powerful driving hips. But it was when Jazz felt heated lips and one talented glossa swirl around on of his sensory horns that pushed him right up to the edge.

"Come on baby. Come for me," Jazz frantically panted, fighting to hold back.

Prowl's cry of passion as he finally came was sweet music that vibrated Jazz's sensory horn in just the right way catapulting him into overload bliss. Jazz somehow managed to cradle Prowl's trembling, offlined body against his chassis as he slide them gently to the floor before offlining himself.

A short time later Jazz emerged from the forced recharged and found he was on a soft berth. His systems still tingled pleasantly from his overload. With a smile and moan, he rolled onto his back and stretched. Optics barely onlined when he felt a weight move onto the berth. There at the far corner of the berth was Prowl crouched with a predatory look on his faceplates that made Jazz shudder.

"Now it's my turn to claim what is mine," Prowl said dropping his voice low making Jazz's horns tingle.

Jazz's already heated interface systems quickly coming back online at that promise from his lover and at the sight of Prowl's powerful legs and sexy, hot aft. Jazz smiled dreamily at the way the mech's white hands seemed so relaxed, dangling with his forearms resting on his knees. Only the most impressive display was how Prowl's doorwings were arched up high and fully flared out for display.

Those tantalizing wings fluttered, sending a shiver down Jazz's spinal relays.

"Wow, I didn' know yar wings could get so big," Jazz gasped softly. "Is…is that a second smaller set below the main wings?"

"Wings one way a Praxian mech can attract a mate. The bigger the wings the more appealing the mech is to his potential mate. In the older cycles the larger the wings, meant the stronger the bond and the promise of healthy sparklings."

"These cycles?" Jazz asked coyly.

Prowl smiled, moving slowly almost stalking Jazz until he was close enough and whispered into Jazz's audio receptor, "For Praxians, a mech's wings are a strong indication of how well endowed he is."

"The bigger the wings…the bigger the…wow," Jazz smirked, hips already eagerly shifting on the berth. "I once heard about this matin' dance Praxian mechs do to attract their mate."

"Yes, it is a rather unique display of a mech's dominance. No other culture on Cybertron has such a ritual," Prowl said, leaping of the berth and landing softly on his peds. "My father taught me the basic dance. When I first met you, I've since honed my skill at it and created one of my own."

"Wow, confident fragger, aren't ya?"

"I know what I want Jazz. And I know how to get it," Prowl replied, moving gracefully across the room adjust his wings accordingly with his body movements, optics intensely keeping hold of Jazz's gaze. "Tell me Jazz, how did it feel when you saw that Praxian touching me? Did it make you jealous?"

Jazz stared at Prowl astonished, unable to take his optics off the mech as he continued to dance seductively, enticingly.

Prowl laughed, "Oh Jazzy, for such a spontaneous mech you are undeniably predicable when it comes to your emotional responses. You see, I got tired of waiting…of you rejecting my advances to take it to the next level. I didn't want to force you into something when you obviously weren't ready. However, I wasn't apposed to providing a little incentive to get what I wanted. I allowed Smokescreen to touch me in order to make you jealous so I could finally have you."

"Ya sneaky, deviant mech!"

"I'm a tactician. I solve problems. Oh, and I always win," Prowl grinned as he pounced on Jazz, frame overheated from dancing. "However, I do realize tricked you. So to be fair, the decision is yours. If you're upset with me I will allow you to leave. If not, I desire to make love to you for the rest of the cycle and then some since we have next cycle off."

"Come here, lover," Jazz smiled, beckoning Prowl to come closer with his finger. "After that fine dancin' display…I'm yars..._**always…and forever**_."

**The End.**


	28. Day Thirty

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

**A/N: **Continuation from prompt 26! Prowl finds out he's a daddy!

* * *

**Day 30:** "Why do all good things come to an end?"

Jazz sat beside Prowl's makeshift medical berth holding his lover's hand, refusing to rest or leave his side. The mech had literally fallen into stasis in Jazz's arms out there while they were kissing, scaring the spark of Jazz. Luckily Smokey and Street had quick enough reflexes to catch hold of the offlined mech and prevent him from doing any more damage to himself or any to Jazz. But it had been an anxious several klicks for Jazz until Ratchet arrived and told him Prowl was going to be just fine.

And now the exhausted mech was in a medical induced recharge to ensure his systems fully re-energized properly and to ensure that his self-repair systems did their job on his damaged doorwing, which Ratchet had to pop back into place. Jazz silently watched his handsome mech as three joors passed feeling the weight upon his spark lift. The dents were slowly disappearing. The scratches and scrapes were slowly fading.

But Prowl's self repair systems did nothing for the nightmares he was having. All Jazz could do was smooth a servo over Prowl's helm and murmur in his audio receptor until he fell back into a more peaceful recharge. It literally made Jazz cry as he couldn't even imagine what was going through Prowl's processor out there in all that death.

How much did he actually see? How many did he try to save and couldn't?

Jazz whispered prayers of gratitude to Primus for simply keeping Prowl alive and giving him this second chance. A second chance that he wasn't going to give up on or waste.

"How's he doing?"

"Still recharging," Jazz sighed.

"Here, I thought you'd might like to clean him up," Smokescreen whispered, handing Jazz some cleaner and towels. "I know how fussy he is about his armor. Plus, it might make him feel better if he didn't wake up with the smell of death clinging to him."

"Thanks, Smokey," Jazz smiled.

"Ratchet said for you to drink this too. He'll be by in a joor or so to check on Prowl."

"Thanks," Jazz exhaled.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes, I will be. I'm just tired," Jazz answered, biting his bottom lip, optics burning from his tears.

"Hey, it's going to be fine. I know my brother. He'll be thrilled about the sparkling. I know for a fact that having a family with you was something he dreamed about. He told me as much. As for me…I'm turning over a new crystal. I talked with Ironhide, he promised to sponsor me so that I could enlist. I'm going to be an Autobot, if I survive the training camp. It's time I grow up and do something with my life."

"Really?"

"Yeah, well the destruction of you home city kind of puts life into perspective," Smokescreen solemnly said, looking down at his brother.

"I'm sure it does."

"Well, I'm going to go help out there with Street. We're with Bumblebee and Ironhide. Ratchet knows how to get a hold of them if you need to reach us."

"I'm sure Prowl will want to see you guys later."

"We'll be by, don't worry. Just make sure you tell my little brother about his sparkling," Smokescreen seriously said.

"It's foremost on my processor," Jazz sighed, applying the cleansing gel to the rag. "Good luck out there."

"Thanks. Drink your special energon," Smokescreen reminded Jazz as he left.

After finishing his drink, Jazz began the meticulous task of cleaning Prowl's armor. The cleanser wasn't to either of their specifications but would do enough to wash away the dirt and grime. In doing so, Jazz was tender and affectionate, moving his hands slowly, making sure to get in the armor gaps. He even lifted Prowl's arms and legs up enough to clean the underneath side he was laying on.

"Out of all your features, your face is what I love most," Jazz whispered, gently cleaning Prowl's helm and chevron. "When you chose to be, your face is very expressive. It softens when you look at me with so much love. Tightens when you've had a rough cycle on the job."

Jazz paused, carefully cleaning Prowl's face.

"And I never get tired of seeing that blissful expression when you overload," Jazz giggle softly. "Still, my favorite is watching you recharge. You're so handsome when relaxed. I often pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming about you lying there beside me, holding me close."

A warm smile formed on Jazz's face and he started humming one of Prowl's favorite songs as he finished up the sides of Prowl's helm. Then Jazz grabbed a clean towel and started working on Prowl's chest armor. Words inevitably started to melodically flow from his vocal processor as Jazz could never keep the music inside him. He loved to sing even if he only had one mech in the audience. Besides, Prowl often enjoyed it when Jazz put a show on for him only.

"That tickles," Prowl's voice suddenly rumbled softly vibrating his chest beneath Jazz's hand.

"Sorry," Jazz whispered, pulling his hand away.

"You've been doing a wonderful job so far," Prowl smiled, onlining his optics and gently grabbing hold of Jazz's hand. "It'd be a shame to leave it unfinished."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. I heard your soft singing and something about overloads and bliss."

"You aft," Jazz exclaimed, playfully hitting Prowl with the towel. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

"I heard enough to know you've forgiven me. I was afraid I was dreaming when I saw you out there, that you might not ever forgive me for leaving you."

"Oh, Prowl, there's nothing to forgive. I was the fool," Jazz wept, his emotions bursting, his words rushing out. Prowl grimaced as he quickly sat up. He simply ignored the pain, pulling Jazz into his arms. "And then when I heard about Praxus and no one knew where you were at. I was so scared of losing you."

"Shh, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere," Prowl cooed, nuzzling the top of Jazz's helm with his cheek, hands smoothing over Jazz's back armor.

For a few klicks, Jazz simply wept, enjoying the closeness of Prowl and the feel of his arms wrapped around him. Still, Jazz did have a responsibility. Prowl needed to know. Determined, Jazz pulled back so he could see into Prowl's face.

"Shh, I'm ok," Prowl whispered, tenderly wiping away Jazz's tears.

"Prowl, I really need to tell ya something. It's very important," Jazz spoke softly.

"Jazz? You're shaking."

"I know," Jazz chuckled nervously. "I can't help it. I'm terrified and excited. I'm not sure how you're going to react."

"React to what?" Prowl hesitantly asked.

"Prowl…I'm carrying your sparkling."

Prowl blinked and his hands stilled.

"Did you hear me? I'm with sparkling," Jazz repeated.

Prowl blinked again and again. And then suddenly came out of his stunned stupor.

"You…a…our…holy Primus," he gasped stammering, slipping off the bed onto his peds, doorwings twitching back and forth. "Primus almighty! A sparkling! Frag, I'm going to be…wow!" Prowl threw his arms around Jazz, pulling close. "Oh Jazz this is so wonderful!"

"Ow!" Jazz squeaked when Prowl hugged him too tightly.

"Slag, I'm sorry," Prowl apologized, lifting Jazz up and setting him gently on the berth. "You shouldn't be out here. You should be resting!"

"So I keep telling him the stubborn slagger."

Jazz and Prowl turned upon hearing Ratchet's voice.

"Ratchet! Did you hear? I'm going to have a sparkling! I mean, I'm going to be a father!" Prowl said excitedly, making Jazz laugh. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes, congratulations, now sit your aft down!"

Prowl, having dealt with Ratchet's berthside manners before didn't hesitate to jump on the berth, sitting down beside Jazz. Jazz giggled, leaning into Prowl who simply rolled his optics, putting an arm around the smaller mech. The huge smiled on Prowl's face had a calming affect on Jazz and for the first time since learning he'd sparked he truly relaxed.

"Shh, don't cry, love," Prowl murmured, kissing Jazz's audio receptor. "Ratchet…?"

"Jazz and the sparkling are fine," Ratchet answered the implied question while running scans on Prowl and then Jazz. "He just needs a good, relaxed recharge. It will be beneficial to him and the sparkling."

"What can I do?"

"Just be there for them, Prowl," Ratchet smiled, patting the mech on the shoulder.

"I can do that," Prowl sighed, kissing the top of Jazz's helm.

"Good. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Still kind of tired," Prowl frowned and Jazz watched as those beautiful doorwings dropped down flat on Prowl's back. "But…I think it's more mental then physical. It was…horrible out there."

Now it was Jazz's turn to comfort Prowl.

"Come with me, both of you."

Jazz took hold of Prowl's hand, smiling reassuringly up at him. Honestly, Jazz was curious about where Ratchet was taking them but his main priority was Prowl and what his needs were. Then when they reached an area where several Praxians were grouped together it dawned on Jazz what Ratchet was doing.

It was difficult, but Jazz let Prowl go as this group of mechs and femmes all stood up to greet Prowl. Each one of them hugged him and thanked him for saving their lives. But the most spark wrenching thanks came from those who were still recovering from his injuries. Jazz couldn't hold back his tears as Prowl humbly accepted each thank you, hug, handshake or kiss.

But the most surprising moment was when the Prime came over and personally thanked Prowl and invited him to the Autobot base in Iacon where he would receive an award for his efforts. Jazz proudly accepted the offer on behalf of his future bondmate who stood there wide mouth and stunned, for the second time this cycle.

Finally at the end of the cycle, Prowl was reunited with his brother Smokescreen and partner Streetwise. The four of them were then transported back to Polyhex. Jazz laughed at how excited Prowl was when he talked about the sparkling and was happy about his brother's decision to join the Autobots. Other than that they traveled in silence, Jazz basking in Prowl's affections as the proud enforcer never let go of Jazz.

When the black and white couple finally made it home, Jazz found himself at Prowl's mercy. Jazz couldn't tell up from down or even where he was from Prowl's pleasurable assault. He didn't even bother counting how many times he overloaded before he fell into an exhausted recharged safely snuggled in Prowl's tired arms, hearing murmurs of love in his audio receptor.

Some time later Jazz woke to feeling a tender hand affectionate caressing his chest. Onlining his optics he saw Prowl smiling down at him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Pleasantly tired," Jazz sighed, purring. "Hmm…that feels so good."

"That's good," Prowl mumbled, kissing Jazz's forehead.

"What about you? Any bad dreams?"

Prowl frowned, his hand stilled and he looked away.

"You can always talk to me, babe. You know its not good to keep it inside."

Prowl sighed heavily. Jazz waited patiently. He knew he couldn't force Prowl. But he also knew the mech would speak what's on his processor. He always did.

"When I was out there I was angry…upset. How could Primus allow so many good mechs and femmes to die? I thought perhaps he abandoned us…abandoned me. Then I woke up hearing this beautiful seraph singing and I remembered something this seraph once told me when I was having a particularly rough cycle. For every down there is an up, you can't expect things to be perfect forever. Logically, that's not realistic. It's true how the lows in life can be extremely depressing, devastating and even cruel. You taught me not to look at such things as an another ending but a brand new beginning."

Jazz smiled, caressing Prowl's face when the mech paused and returned the smile.

"This right here," Prowl whispered tenderly stroking Jazz's chest where their little spark was nestled. "This is _**our**_ new beginning."

**The End.**


	29. Day Thirty Bonus fic

**Cybertronian time references similar but not equal to our own: **astrosecond ~ _second_, klick ~ _minute_, joor ~ _hour_, cycle ~ _day_, deca-cycle ~ _week_, orn ~ _month_, vorn ~ _year_

Bonus ficage! Lol This was inspired by a song I've heard many times but it wasn't until I had so much P&J ficage on the brain that I thought of it. The song is called Everything's Gonna Be Alright by Sweetbox. Also, thanks to Wicked. It was after her prompt using a song that also made me come up with this fic.

**Day 30:** "Why do all good things come to an end?"

We are many times being born and dying. I believe that with my whole spark. It is even said in Primus' teaching that once we die our spark's energy, our life force, is returned to him in the Well of All Sparks. So it makes logical sense that we'd be reborn.

It was because of this belief that I wasn't afraid when I saw Megatron's fusion canon blast coming straight for me. My only fear was for my longtime lover, my bonded. I knew my loss was going to affect him greatly. And so I reached out to him one final time not knowing if he could even hear my message across the vastness of space that had separated us.

'Jazz…everything's going to be alright...'

_Everything's gonna be alright._

"…I'm so sorry Jazz…he's gone…"

_Who ever thought the sun would come crashing down. My life in flames my tears complete the pain. We fear the end, the dark as deep as a river bed. My book of life incomplete without you here. Alone I sit and reminisce. Sometimes I miss your touch your kiss your smile. And meanwhile you know I never cry. 'Cos deep down inside you know our love will never ever die._

The words were but a whisper to me when Blaster told me Prowl was gone. I knew my beloved was gone before I even landed on Earth, long before I saw the looks on their faces. I felt it deep within my spark. There was an emptiness there that no other bot other than Prowl would be able to fill.

Our mutual friends watched me closely as I took hold of Prowl's cold lifeless hand and held it to my spark. They were all waiting for me to break down into tears with grief, waiting for me to lose my processor with loneliness. Only I didn't. They didn't understand and often asked me why even cycles and orns later.

"Prowl may be gone but my love for him will never die," I smiled gazing up at the heavens.

I knew in my spark that everything was going to be alright and that one cycle I'd see my love again. I didn't know what cycle that would be but I would be ready in this life and the next.

_Everything's gonna be alright. Everything's gonna be ok. Everything's gonna be alright. Together we can take this one day at a time. Can you take my breath away. Can you give him life today. 'Cos everything's gonna be ok. I'll be your strength, I'll be here when you wake up._

_Take your time and I'll be here when you wake up._

I didn't hesitate in my reaction even though I knew the encounter was going to be fatal. I would do it time and time again. It was in my nature. Good versus evil. Right versus wrong. I wasn't afraid, not even when Megatron started to rip me apart. The only pain in my spark was for my beautiful young lover, my newly bonded. He was still so young. I'm not sure how he'll cope with my death. I waited a lifetime for him to come back into my life. And now it's his turn to alone. I hope he understands this.

'Prowl…be brave…everything's gonna be alright…'

_Everything's gonna be alright._

"Prowl…I'm so sorry…"

_I never thought my heart would miss a single beat. Caress your hand as I watch you while you sleep. So sweet I weep and I search within. To find a cure, to bring you back again. And the sun will rise open your eyes. Surprise just a blink of the eye. I tried I tried to be positive. You're a fight so fight, wake up and live._

I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my faceplates when I looked upon my love's broken body. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. I half expected him to just get up because that was the kind of mech Jazz was. He never gave up and always fought back time and time again no matter how many times he was knocked down.

I turned and begged my Prime to bring him back to me, ignoring CMO's words telling me that it was impossible. I even when to far as to punch Optimus, flinging Ratchet off me in a fit of rage. Yet for each curse I yelled at Prime I only received a look of sorrow and sadness with an apology.

They left me alone after I screamed at them to get out. I couldn't face them anymore. I couldn't face the world. At least not yet. My emotions were at war with my logic processors. I wanted to follow Jazz into oblivion, even held the blade to the main energon blade in my neck. But in the end it was Jazz's words to me I heard once in a dream that filled my spark up with strength and courage.

I dropped the blade and wept.

"Ok, Jazz, I'll be brave," I whispered, giving him one final kiss.

_Everything's gonna be alright. Everything's gonna be ok. Everything's gonna be alright. Together we can take this one day at a time. Can you take my breath away. Can you give him life today. 'Cos everything's gonna be ok. I'll be your strength, I'll be here when you wake up._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

It was another lifetime when we found each other. A familiar world where we were reunited. We were barely lovers when our time was to be cut short. Again, I wasn't afraid. I would do anything for my friend, my lover. And though it pained me to hear him cry out to me that he'd find another way, I willingly gave my spark to save him and the others.

With a parting smile I let him know that everything was going to be alright.

_Everything's gonna be alright._

"..and everybody's ok!"

"Not everybody…"

_I'd give my life to only see you breathe again. Hand in hand as we walk on the white sands. To hear your voice rejoice as you rise and say. This is the day that I wake and pray ok. Today's silence as time just moves on. You can't hear it though, but I'm playing our favorite songs. I miss you much, I would you'd come back to me. You see I'd wait a lifetime 'cos you're my destiny._

We defeated Megatron. Good beat evil. We won. But the cost of our victory was too much for my spark to bear. I partook in the festivities when we had returned to Cybertron. I smiled as if everything was ok. Only those closest to Prowl saw through my mask. They couldn't understand the full depth of my pain but they understood enough.

Prowl was gone out of our lives.

Even orns later I could still feel his lifeless weight in my arms. His final smile often haunts my dreams. I did everything I could to get away from the life that reminded my of Prowl. I retired from the Elita Guard. I had even stopped visiting Master Yoketron's Dojo after they'd erected the statue to honor Prowl.

I had to follow my spark, look to the future when one day I would be reunited. In this lifetime or the next I know in my spark that I will see Prowl again and that everything would be alright once more.

_Everything's gonna be alright. Everything's gonna be ok. Everything's gonna be alright. Together we can take this one day at a time. Can you take my breath away. Can you give him life today. 'Cos everything's gonna be alright. I'll be your strength, I'll be here when you wake up alright._

_Everything's gonna be alright._

It was some sixty vorns later when I looked across the room and my spark still up seeing a familiar profile I'd seen in my dreams from another lifetime, one long ago. The doorwings, the similar colors…all too familiar face.

"It can't be," I whispered to myself.

I took a long drink before I looked over at the mech again. White frame, silver chevron, black peds, aft, and hands and white and black wings with red highlights on his chest and even the red on black pelvic armor. There was such sadness in the mech's face as he nursed his drink slowly in a booth by himself.

Steeling my courage, I made my way across the bar, nodding my head at the bartender to refill my drink. As I got closer I noticed the star emblems. I almost laughed. An Enforcer. It _**had**_ to be him.

"Can I get you another one?" I asked.

"Hmm..oh, no thank you," the mech's youthful voice replied politely with a small smile.

"Pardon my boldness, but you look like a young mech with far too much on his process," I said, sitting across from him.

The young mech's deep cobalt optics stared intently at me for a moment, calculating, wondering, trying to figure out what kind of mech I was. I'd seen that stare too before many times.

"I've been told by many of my patrons that I'm a good listener," I smiled getting a surprised look from the mech. "Yup, I own this quiet little bar."

"It's very nice. I normally don't go to bars but this one was quiet, seemed…comfortable," he said shrugging his shoulders. "Inviting. I felt…I don't know…drawn to it. You know?"

"I know exactly what you mean. I see you're an Enforcer. Did something happen on the job today?"

The mech brushed his fingers over the star on his breast.

"It was my first cycle on the job. It didn't go so well," he said and his doorwings drooped. "Everything that could go wrong did. I feel like such a failure. Even my partner yelled at me to quit to spare him anymore processor aches."

"Ya're not gonna quit," I stated, leaning back in my seat and taking a sip on my drink. "Yar not the quitin' type."

"How can you say that? You don't even know me! You don't even know my name. Slag, I don't even know you're name or why I'm even talking to you."

I laughed and immediately got that annoyed look I'd seen so many times in the distant past.

"Sorry, my name's Jazz," I chuckled, extending my hand out to him. "An' I really am a good listener. Ya're not the first mech or femme to tell me their woes."

After a long moment, the mech extended his hand to me.

"Prowl."

"Well Prowl, ya're young. Ya still have much to learn. But ya have a look about ya. I rare look. One I haven't seen in a long time. It's not in yar nature to give up. Everything's gonna be alright, Prowl."

"For some illogical reason that escapes me, I believe you, Jazz," he smiled at me and for the first time in so many vorns my spark was content. "I see us becoming good friends."

"I do too. I do too."

**FINALLY! The End**


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